Someday You Will Wake Up
by namone
Summary: When Kurt finally gets his big break on Broadway Blaine finds himself alone. Because it is a struggle to live a life with someone who you only see in passing, or who falls asleep during sex, or that you love so madly but fear is slipping away.
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

Blaine was dreaming.

Walking down a mirrored hallway towards a human shaped statue, but the air is too thick and his feet gets him nowhere. The mirrors however reflect a running man, moving at the speed that Blaine could not keep up with. The feeling of panic and frustration expanding and...

The cold air that seeped in under the covers made the dream change form and he is standing naked at a hill, half of his body covered behind a tree but the other half exposed to the dark and furious night, searching for him. The cold eye of the moon drawing him in, leaving him no place to hide... But it was not so much of a dream as it was an image in the back of his mind as he became oddly aware of that he was sleeping.

The chilly sensation of arms and feet gently bumping into his legs and back cleared his head and Blaine slowly opened his eyes to the reality of the bedroom. He turned around to lie flat on his back.

"Hmmm, Kurt..." Blaine looked to his left at the contour of his boyfriend.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Kurt whispered as he pulled the blanket up to his neck.

"That's okay. Did you have a good performance?" Blaine's voice was ragged with sleep but grasped Kurt's hand to show that he really did want to know. "God, you're cold."

"Yes, it went smoothly." Kurt moved in closer, the side of Blaine's warm sleepy body contrasting Kurt's cold and stiff one. "We really need to get a radiator in here." Kurt's voice was already drifting off airily, and Blaine could hear that his eyes were closed.

"Good night then," Blaine muttered and felt his own sleepy state creeping back.

"Night, Blaine," Kurt mumbled. Blaine shifted his body slightly. Despite Kurt's cold skin Blaine felt more comfortable than previously and quickly fell asleep, dreaming nothing.

* * *

><p>Blaine got home from work an hour earlier than usual. He's had to send home his last pupil because she couldn't sing two lines without coughing her lungs up.<p>

Blaine was happy to go home earlier, even though it meant getting soaking wet when running from the subway to the apartment. This would mean he got to see Kurt before he left for the theatre. Blaine had left for work before Kurt woke up this morning and Fridays were one of those days when Kurt left the house before Blaine got home.

Blaine stumbled through the door of their apartment, having left a trail of wet footprints on the staircase. Rain was still dripping from his hair and down his back, the autumn weather taunting him.

"Honey, I'm home," he shouted as he took off his shoes and went into the bathroom to hang up his coat on the radiator.

There was no answer but he could hear water boiling in the kitchen and Kurt singing along to the radio. He half danced through the living room to the kitchen where Kurt was leaning over the sink and tapping his foot.

"Can't touch this!" Blaine joined in and Kurt flinched, spinning around with a carrot and a peeler held as weapons.

"Gosh Blaine, you scared me!" he said and turned around to the sink again. "I though you wouldn't be home for another hour."

"Well, Amanda was basically throwing phlegm all over the piano so I sent her home," Blaine explained as he walked over the put his arms around Kurt and kiss him on the cheek.

"I hope you didn't catch her germs. If you in infect me I will have to take serious measures against this vile act directed at my vocal abilities," Kurt said but leaned into the touch. "You're all wet."

"I forgot the umbrella," Blaine let go moved to the stove and rice was boiling. "What are we having?"

"Chicken," Kurt said and scotched down chopped up vegetables into the frying pan.

"Wonderful." Blaine opened the fridge and took out the filets.

"And what exactly do you think you're doing?" Kurt asked and Blaine frowned.

"I'm helping you with dinner?"

"Now what you should do is to get out of those wet clothes and put on one of those ungodly but dry t-shirts because if you get sick, I get sick and if I get sick I can't sing," Kurt reasoned and took the meat from Blaine's hands and shrugged. "Then you're more than welcome to make the salad." He smiled smugly.

"Your concern for my health is touching," Blaine proclaimed as he walked out of the kitchen door and to their bedroom, taking off his shirt as he went.

"So how was your day?" Kurt asked 15 minutes later and filled half of their plates with salad.

"Thanks. It was alright. Ivan was really nervous about this concert that he is going to be singing at next week. It's his first big performance outside school and he is really struggling with his confidence at times but I think he's getting there. Today he hit all the high notes so I'd like to believe he was a bit calmer when he left." he paused to take a bite and closed his eyes. "Wow, this is really good." Kurt snickered.

"Better than usual?"

"It's like..." Blaine scrunched his face together and closed his eyes. "The best..." He threw he head back and moaned loudly.

"Oh here we go again."

"Meal ever!" Blaine cried the words out and slammed his fist against table. Kurt laughed and took a sip of water.

"Ah, the short version. And I am left having to remind you, once again, that I was appointed the role as Sally." Kurt raised an eyebrow and continued eating.

"I'm too hungry," said Blaine and picked up his fork as if he had not just faked the shortest orgasm since that time they had been in an actual restaurant and Kurt had been extremely unamused. "And I am not stopping you from acting on that."

"Well, I don't think I'll be doing any faking considering we haven't had sex in almost a week," Kurt said matter of factly. Blaine laughed a little and for a quick moment he was reminded of a 16 year old Kurt who put his fingers in his ear and started singing as soon as you brought up the subject. But now he simply glanced up on the clock on the wall, ten years older and all innocence taken.

"You're so beautiful." The words spilled out of Blaine's mouth like so many times before, a simple smile on his lips. Kurt's eyes met Blaine's, and it was like looking back in time at that boy who couldn't believe that someone could love him. A slow smile creeped down from his eyes to his lips. For a moment it was just quiet.

Then Kurt tilted his head to the side and squinted his eyes.

"Blaine, that must be the oldest line in the book."

Blaine laughed and shook his head a little, enjoying the comfort of having dinner with the person that he loved.

* * *

><p>Blaine took care of the dishes and Kurt changed his outfit. Even though he would be in his costume on stage he insisted on looking his best between locations.<p>

The difference between them might have been remarkable for an outsider looking in. Kurt was standing in the hall, and Blaine heard the keys rattling as he put them in his pocket. He scurried out of the kitchen and to say goodbye.

Kurt was wearing a paisley patterned vest over a grey shirt with matching trousers. Blaine leaned against the doorframe in a pair of his favorite jeans, worn out after quite a few years, and a t-shirt with the words _He had it coming _from the musical _Chicago_.

"So good luck tonight," Blaine said while Kurt put on his waterproof trench coat which always made Blaine think of vintage cop movies from his childhood. Kurt smiled but rather distantly, already going into stage mode. He reached for a hat on the shelf above the shoes and made the detective look complete. Blaine snickered.

"You look as though you're ready to wander some dark alleyways, looking for clues with a giant magnifying glass," Blaine told him, careful not to sound too serious and striking a pre-performance nerve.

"You look like you're gonna paint a house and make people question your sexuality, not knowing whether to believe the trucker pants or the Broadway shirt," Kurt replied without missing a beat. Blaine cocked his head. "They's probably settle for straight after considering the hair."

Kurt ran a hand through Blaine's wild curls, unruly after the rain.

"People judge too quickly," Blaine said. His eyes flickered to Kurt's smirk and then back up to his eyes. He leaned in and kissed him on the lips, intending it to be quick peck but lingering a moment longer. Kurt closed his eyes and his fingers traveled down to rest at the crook of Blaine's neck, his lips fitting perfectly on Blaine's, as if they were molded to go there. Safe and warm.

"No go kick some butt," Blaine said between his teeth and reinforced the statement by slapping Kurt's ass.

"Got it. Have a nice evening." Kurt kissed Blaine on the cheek and was on his way.

Blaine sighed as he door closed. He was tired of always saying goodbye. He'd thought that they would have a steady rhythm by now, with mutual routines, but instead they spent more time apart than ever.

He curled up in the sofa and flipped through the TV channels dully.

Kurt had only been on Broadway a few months, almost accidentally landing one of the lead roles in a new musical called _Octagon_. Blaine was happy for Kurt. Thrilled actually. There was nothing in the world he wanted more Kurt to be happy and now his dream about making it in New York finally had come true.

Blaine smiled at the memory of when Kurt had gotten the call from the director, offering him a part. It had been a sunny Thursday afternoon and they had been taking a walk in Central Park. Kurt had stopped dead in his tracks, with the phone pressed against his ear and his eyes so wide that Blaine's immediate thought was that someone had died.

"Yes. Yes. Thank you," was all that Kurt had said, his voice going high in pitch. He'd hung up and Blaine asked him what had happened, afraid of the answer.

"Blaine. Blaine!" Kurt had looked at him in utter shock and started crying and Blaine pulled him tight to his chest.

"Please tell me what's wrong."

"It... I..." Kurt sobbed. "I got it... Blaine, I got the part!"

Blaine's heart had stopped, not sure if he'd heard correctly. He'd drawn back a little to look at Kurt rosy face.

"You... Got it?" he whispered.

"I got it!" Kurt was by then smiling with his entire body, the meaning of the news settling in. "Blaine, I am going to be on Broadway!" He held both of Blaine's hands and jumped up and down a couple of times. Blaine mirrored his smile and felt himself blushing with pride.

"Congratulations, Kurt. This is just... You're going to be fantastic," Blaine had told him when they hugged again. "Let's go get some champagne."

Blaine switched off the TV. The rain was still pouring outside and the living room was gloomily dark, matching his mood. How many nights had he not spent in the last couple of months, restlessly passing time. He missed cuddling in the couch, watching an old movie and listening to Kurt's remarks about distasteful choice of wardrobe and not to mention _that hair_. Even though, or maybe because, they'd been together for almost ten years Blaine felt incomplete without Kurt. He was so used to his presence and of coming home to him. The night used to be theirs. Even when they were in college and working double jobs to pay the rent they had made sure to spend all the time they could with each other, even if it meant staying up the entire night and falling asleep on the floor. Now they were always too tired and spontaneous romance had taken the backseat.

_The floor..._ Blaine thought and squinted at the open surface behind the couch. _Why not?_

* * *

><p>Blaine's stomach twisted with excitement when he heard the keys in the door, the same kind of excitement that he used to feel before going on stage back in the day when he was doing that.<p>

He listened quietly as Kurt took of his hat, coat and finally shoes. The moment Blaine heard Kurt checking that the door was locked he cleared his throat and the piano chair creaked as he started playing.

"_I walked across an empty land, I knew the pathway like the back of my hand_".

Kurt stood on the threshold between the hall and the living room, right next to the piano with a gaping look of amazement. Blaine felt the corners of his mouth going up all by themselves.

"_...sat by the river and it made me complete_". He met Kurt's eyes. "_Oh simple thing, were have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on_"

Blaine belted out, keeping his gaze locked with Kurt's the entire verse. Kurt looked about as taken aback as the first time Blaine had sung this to him, almost blushing.

Blaine quickly looked down on the keys as the verse progressed to chorus.

"_And if you have a minute why don't we go..._" He looked back up on Kurt. "_Talk about it somewhere only we know_" Kurt was smiling and blinking slowly.

"_This could be the end of everything, so why don't we go, somewhere only we know_"

The tempo somewhat slowed down and Blaine hunched forward singing softly, eyes closed.

"_Somewhere only we know..._"

He felt Kurt sit down next to him, the fresh smell of cold city air filling his nose.

"_Somewhere only we know_," Kurt joined in on the last line, a whisper but fully audible to Blaine, who decided to end the song, letting the last chord ring out.

"Welcome home," he said after a moment of silence, letting his hands fall down in his lap. Kurt put his own hands over Blaine and squeezed them tight.

"Thank you." His voice was raspy. Blaine smiled and nudged him with his shoulder.

"Look behind you."

Kurt didn't turn around immediately and Blaine watched as his eyes widened and bit his lip.

Kurt turned his head and Blaine carefully watched the expression on his face, happy to see the fines lines around his eyes as his entire face lit up.

"Oh my god, Blaine!" he laughed. "A wine picnic! In out living room. On the floor! This has been ages."

Blaine jumped up from the chair and Kurt followed to sit down on the tablecloth that Blaine had laid out, accompanied by two glasses, a bottle of red wine and some crackers (if Blaine had planned this in advance he would have been a bit more exclusive with a baguette, dark chocolate and possibly custom made napkins).

"May I serve the gentleman some wine?" Blaine pulled the sides of his mouth down in what he felt was a very snobby manner. Kurt gestured to his glass elegantly.

"Please do."

Blaine poured the wine in silence, but it was a comfortable kind of silence. One that they'd shared many times before, when words simply weren't necessary.

They sipped on the wine, looking at each other happily. Blaine could not for his life understand why they didn't do things like this more often.

"So you will not believe what happened on stage tonight," Kurt started after a minute of so, putting down his glass to free his hands. Blaine smiled encouragingly and only let the thought of _this is why_ exist in his mind for a split second.

"Michelle got the hiccups during _Stern Mr Face_ and they just kept coming during the entire song! So when I was standing over here, you know on the right next to Marcel," Kurt demonstrated with his hands "waiting to turn around and do my thing I have to listen to Michelle's hiccup from across the stage, which by the way probably was the squeakiest thing I have ever heard." Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Oh shut up. Anyway – I can't believe we made it out alive, trying to keep a straight face was so hard but watcha gonna do when you're _Stern Mr Face_," Kurt did a pose with every word of the title which Blaine vaguely remembered seeing in the performance.

"Hey, I should come and see the show again," Blaine said and put a couple of crackers in his mouth.

"Mm, you really should!" Kurt grabbed a pillow from the couch and laid down. "It's so much better than last time you saw it." Blaine laid down on his side, propped up on his elbow. "Well, anything's better than last time you saw it," Kurt went on and looked over at Blaine. "With the fire alarm going off and all."

"That was an interesting night."

Kurt chuckled and drank from his glass, his head the only thing leaving the floor. Blaine watched the muscles of Kurt's neck stretching out and the tense line his jaw before Kurt let his head bump back down on the pillow and closed his eyes his eyes for a couple of seconds. Blaine laid down beside him on the pillow, striking up a conversation about the tireless subject of their crazy neighbor Mrs Friedman, which spun on to the election, which lead to Blaine's parents which quickly was followed by a review of the new production of _A Chorus Line_, leading them down memory lane when they first got to New York and went to auditions together.

"Remember that time when they made us read together without realizing that we knew each other?" Kurt said a bit too loudly, red wine having a loosening effect on him.

"As if I could forget!" Blaine was comfortably tipsy without feeling the least bit drunk. He grinned up at the ceiling. "And I had to yell at you for sleeping with my wife."

"And... wait, what was my line?" Kurt pondered while laughing quietly, his hair tickling Blaine's ear. "Right! Something like 'But she's so fine, I just had to fuck her!'" Kurt said in his lowest voice and the room erupted into laughter.

"What the hell was that play and why were we auditioning for it?" Blaine said as soon as he could breathe again.

"I have no idea. It must have been around the time when Rachel forced us to go to every single audition no matter what it was." They both continued to chuckle. "Of course, she had already gotten on Broadway!"

Blaine exhaled shakily and turned his head to Kurt who still was giggling slightly, his chest trembling every now and then.

Blaine marveled at Kurt's profile, sharp in the dim light. His straight nose, cutting an angle from his face, his lashes slamming into each other with every blink. The curve of his lips, slightly parted, and the angle of his chin, leading down to the hollow of his throat.

Blaine shifted so that he was lying on his right side, closer than before, his knees pulled up in the triangular gap between Kurt's legs and floor, and neck stretched out against Kurt's shoulder.

Kurt's eyes had lazily followed Blaine's movements, finally settling on an undecided spot beyond his elbow. Blaine caressed the soft skin of Kurt's underarm, going as far up as the rolled up sleeves would allow him. At the same time he he began kissing the side of his neck, starting out very softly, as a ghost's touch. As soon he felt Kurt shivering he moved in closer, mouth traveling upwards to his jaw and hand to Kurt's chest, sliding in between the buttons of his shirt.

Kurt turned his head, leading Blaine's lips over Kurt's cheek and onto his mouth. Blaine had at some point lifted his head off the floor and was lying on Kurt's shoulder, close enough to feel his heart beat. The familiar sensation of Kurt's lips moving against his still made his pulse go up and he ran his tongue over Kurt's lower teeth, asking permission. Kurt invited him to come closer, a hand on his neck and the taste of wine in his mouth.

Blaine slid his hand under Kurt's shirt and rasped his fingers lightly against his waist, smiling ever so slightly as he got the response he had been aiming for – a tiny ragging sound at the back of Kurt's throat.

He skated his hand over Kurt's lower stomach, slowly but with purpose, downwards. He left Kurt's mouth to kiss and suck on his throat.

"Don't- Don't leave any marks," Kurt said, a bit breathier than usual.

Blaine was used to this kind of demand and planted a light trail of pecks up to behind Kurt's ear.

"Surly you can cover it up with all that expensive Broadway stage makeup," Blaine suggested in a low whisper over his earlobe and cunningly trailed his parted lips softly over the skin right next to his hairline, breathing warmly. Kurt's eyes fluttered shut.

"Yes," Kurt said and Blaine was not quite sure if this was an answer or reaction but nevertheless it was some kind of consent and Blaine took the opportunity to close his mouth over a spot on Kurt's neck and draw in him like he was air. Because at this moment, it really felt as if he were. This _skin_ – so soft and pale and salt – how could anyone live without this _skin_?

Blaine realized he must have been making some funny noises because Kurt was giggling again, very muffled but yet, giggling. Blaine decided to put a stop to this drunken behavior and moved down to his collarbone. Of course, his hair got in Kurt's face and tickled him so Blaine quickly started unbuttoning his shirt and kissing his chest. His hand had stopped at the waistband of Kurt's trousers, curling in the gap between the lining and the hollow of his hip.

Kurt's silent laughter ebbed out as Blaine moved lower, twining their legs together and having Kurt press his thigh Blaine's erection. Kurt twirled his hair in Blaine's hair as Blaine ground down his legs to get his mouth further down on Kurt's stomach. He was basically lying on top of Kurt's left leg when he reached his belly button and the fine, fine line of hair which he traced down with his index finger to the zipper, sloppy kisses following as he undid Kurt's pants.

Blaine was quite aroused by now, the wine and taste of his boyfriend having gone straight to his head, making him feel like he was 17 again wanting to touch every fraction of an inch of Kurt but not knowing how. Except now he did know how... He'd heard how Kurt's breathing had gotten heavier and felt his body instinctively molding into his. Blaine looked up at him and his head was to his side, eyes closed with lips slightly apart.

It was therefore Blaine was so surprised when he started tugging down the trousers that Kurt didn't stir. And how there wasn't much of an erection bulging under Blaine's hand.

Blaine stopped and looked up again and what a few seconds ago had appeared to be a face of lust now was a face of sleeping innocence. Who had a boy's hand in his pants and throbbing dick on his leg.

Blaine stayed absolutely still for a moment and tried to grasp the situation. When Kurt drew in a long streak of air and started breathing steadily through his nose, establishing the fact that he really was asleep, Blaine carefully rolled of him and landed flat on his back with a thud.

He stared up at the ceiling, overcome with a feeling of emptiness. Despite his desperation a minute earlier he now almost felt disgusted. However, lying there listening to Kurt breathing did nothing for his hard-on so he groggily stood up and went to the bathroom.

He felt like taking a shower but didn't want to risk waking Kurt up, _because if having your cock sucked isn't exciting enough maybe the sound of water is_, he bitterly thought as he unbuttoned his jeans and started stroking. It didn't take long before he came, short and without much pleasure.

He cleaned himself up and caught his reflection as he washed his hands. He was feeling emotionally drained – exhausted and something he probably would describe as disappointed. But his face looked downright pained. His mouth was drawn downwards yet relaxed. His eyebrows were a little closer together than usual and his jaw tense. But his eyes just looked sad, eyelids heavy and tired. Blaine quickly looked down at his hands instead, not quite recognizing the shadows on his face.

He felt a sudden pang of anger, at his reflection and stupidity and at Kurt for _falling asleep_.

"Who the fuck _does_ that?" Blaine groaned under his breath and punched the light switch with force as he walked out of the bathroom. He fought the urge to slam the door shut and was left standing looking over the living room.

The feeling of anger towards Kurt subdued at the sight of him lying on the floor in this drafty apartment, curled up but with his shirt hitched up and back exposed.

Blaine sighed and walked over the creaking floor into the bedroom and got the blanket from their bed. He placed it over Kurt, made sure that it covered him everywhere before taking his jeans of and grabbing another pillow from the couch to lie down on.

Blaine closed his eyes and hoped that the nagging feeling in his chest would be gone when he woke up.

* * *

><p>The sun shone through the windows, radiating over Blaine's face. He blinked repeatedly and put his arm over his eyes and rolled over to hide from the light. He groaned at the pain in his back and peeked out from under his elbow, meeting a pair of blue eyes.<p>

"Good morning," Kurt said, sounding as newly woken as Blaine felt. Blaine was confused for a moment at why Kurt was a his right side when he always slept on his left and looked around the room.

"We're on the floor," he established sheepishly, memories from last night flooding back. He did not feel like looking back at Kurt.

"I think you're right," said Kurt and tapped his fingers against the floor. He yawned. "I can't believe we fell asleep here."

Blaine shoot him a quick glance and began crawling up to a sitting position.

"Me neither." His voice was dry and hard but you could blame that on sleep. Anyone else probably would. Kurt stirred, bringing his arm up to rest on and nudging Blaine with his foot. Blaine heard the question before it came.

"What's wrong?"

Blaine looked at him in disbelief, but Kurt looked just as puzzled as he sounded.

"You don't remember?

"Remember what?"

Pause.

Blaine felt his frustration growing with every tense second and gaped, searching for words. He made a strange sound which could pass for a laugh, except he didn't feel like laughing at all. Kurt's stare bore into the back of his head as he turned away, eyes flickering against the sunlight.

"Blaine, tell me."

Kurt sat up, the blanket falling of his upper body and reveling his undone shirt.

"Why is my shirt open..." he mumbled to himself and Blaine rolled his eyes, embarrassment mixing with annoyance. He saw Kurt frowning in the corner of his eye. "And my zipper is down... Did we –"

"No Kurt, we did not," Blaine snapped. "_Someone_ fell asleep."

He spat the words, anger bubbling up from his chest and not knowing what was worst – Kurt falling asleep or Kurt not even remembering.

"What, wait, no, that's not possib– Oh." Realization dawned over his delicate features, smoothing the lines between his eyebrows and shooting up to his forehead instead. "Blaine, I'm so sorry, I was just so tired and –"

Blaine felt humiliated for so obviously being upset about this but the fact that he _was_ upset was inevitable so here goes.

"Yes, thank you for remembering, Kurt." His voice was dripping with sarcasm, as poison pounding through his veins. "Clearly it was nothing worth staying awake for so I don't know why you would bother keeping it in your memory."

Blaine knew that he made no sense, and he sighed inwardly when he saw the same feeling reflected in Kurt's eyes. But he just couldn't let this go.

"Blaine, you know that I treasure every moment with you and you cannot hold the fact that I was exhausted and somewhat drunk against me." Blaine could hear the strain in Kurt's voice, as if trying not to lose his temper. As a grown up should. Not sulking in Blaine childish way. "We're not 19 anymore, you know."

Blaine rubbed his forehead and huffed out a breath of air, mentally rising above the blush on his neck. He looked Kurt by his side who wore an expression of patience and worry, soft but determined.

"I know," Blaine conceded reluctantly, letting logic win over emotion. He could see dark circles under Kurt's eyes and knew that his head was probably throbbing with a light hangover. He felt a little guilty when Kurt smiled wearily, so obviously tired. "I'm sorry, I know it's not your fault."

"That we're getting old?" Kurt said in a lighter tone, his shoulders relaxing visibly. Blaine snorted and was happy to fall into this kind of silly conversation.

"We're not that old Kurt. 26 is not old," Blaine said and felt his jaw loosen up with every word and his mood following.

"That's four years a away for 30. Time of death." Kurt lay back down but winced and sat back up immediately. "It must be a bad sign that my back feels like it has been abused by a locker after sleeping _one_ night on the floor." He bit his lip mischievously and added "Or was that you? No? Too soon?"

Blaine chuckled a little but yes, it was too soon for jokes because the hurt was still just resting underneath his skin. And he had a feeling it went deeper than embarrassment and disappointment. But it was good to laugh a little, and see a bit of color on Kurt's cheeks as he probably was a bit embarrassed too.

"I really am sorry. For falling asleep I mean," Kurt patted Blaine's knee sincerely. Then he quirked an eyebrow and leaned in a little. "I'm sure it would have been amazing."

Blaine couldn't help but to snicker despite feeling as though Kurt's tone was a bit patronizing considering the fact that he must be tired and not at all in the mood. But then Kurt actually let his hand slide down his thigh while leaning on his other hand to get closer to Blaine's face.

"Perhaps I'll make it up to you," Kurt whispered in his ear and edged his fingers in under Blaine's boxers. Blaine did not see this coming and was taken by surprise more than anything else. Not that morning sex was that rare on the weekends but hungover or otherwise physically unfit Kurt never wanted sex. Blaine turned slightly to face Kurt and did not mind his morning breath as much as the pity in his kiss. Kurt's lips were a bit weak against his, dry and without that hunger to get really close. He hitched his hand up further in Blaine's underwear, as if to make up for it, but was stopped by Blaine's hand. Kurt pulled back slightly and pushed his lips together, hesitantly meeting Blaine's eyes.

Maybe it wasn't pity, maybe it was guilt. Either way, Blaine could not let Kurt go through with anything if those were his reasons. An awkward knot in his stomach began tying and it was not anywhere near arousal. Kurt confusedly blinked up at him.

"I'm going to make some breakfast," Blaine announced after a second and squeezed Kurt's hand before scrambling to his feet. "How do eggs sound?"

"Um, sure," Kurt said and ran a hand through his hair.

Blaine felt the need to smile at him, to reassure him that there was no harm done and that he understood and that he could see Kurt's headache puffing out of his ears. "Coming right up."

Kurt looked relieved and Blaine turned to the kitchen and wondered why his face was aching as the smile came trickling off his mouth.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AUTHOR NOTES<strong>  
>Hi there, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this little fic that been stirring around in my brain for a couple of weeks now. Since I basically live, breathe and love for Klaine at the moment your input on the story would be golden! I actually have no idea if this is any good, I can't make up my mind about the writing part of it all, but I have a continuation planned so if there is a want for more I will get right down to business!<em>  
>Cheers Namone


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

The weekend passed rather uneventfully. Blaine pushed his awkward feelings to the back of his mind and tried to enjoy the sunshine and the fact that Kurt only had a 3 pm show on Sunday. Blaine had dinner ready when he got home and then they watched a movie. It was just nice and quiet, nothing special. But these days Blaine lived for these moments.

Blaine didn't want to think that he was one of those annoying dependent people who lived solely for their spouse. Because he wasn't. It was just that Kurt happened to be the most incredible thing to ever have walked into his life and there would never be a point when he did not want to live his life with him. And lately, it just felt like they weren't living as much as they were visiting each other, living like room mates. Not like partners, not like people who had chose to live together out of love and need to one another. And it really bothered Blaine.

But perhaps most of of all it bothered Blaine that Kurt didn't seem to see it the same way. Everything was so new and exciting to him and life was thriving. He would go out with the cast after shows and come home in the middle of the night, tripping over the carpet and waking Blaine up. And Blaine couldn't go with him because he _had to work in the morning_ and when he did go he felt like a stranger. Sure he blended in well enough, Blaine was a fully socially competent man. But these people spent so much time together that it would be impossible for anyone not to feel like a stranger when they laughed at the way they'd made a mistake in the show or spoke of coming projects. Sometimes Kurt would squeeze his hand or knee and smile at him and Blaine would make a comment and the conversation would keep going and Kurt would throw his head back in laughter and clap his hands and Blaine smiled because he was happy that Kurt was_ happy_, with friends, but he was itching to make something more of this life.

It wasn't that often that Kurt came home drunk, he didn't want to jeopardize his health or voice, but every time he did it made Blaine flinch a little bit. Because he wasn't used to Kurt partying without him and honestly he wasn't that used to Kurt partying at all. Of course they went out sometimes but it seemed now that Kurt wanted the whole package of being an artist. He wanted to live the dream and Blaine couldn't blame him one tiny bit.

But when Kurt on Sunday night reached forward to grab his phone off the coffee table, dragging the blanket with him, and declared that he was going to meet Marcel and Gareth and Jane for "a couple of drinks" Blaine couldn't help but to feel alone.

Kurt stood up and put the blanket over Blaine again, inviting him to come along but obviously knowing the answer as he the same breath leaned down to kiss Blaine on the forehead. Blaine smiled faintly.

"Nah, you go. I have Ivan at eight tomorrow."

"Right." Kurt grabbed the pair of black jeans he had taken off to get comfortable in the couch and threw his supposedly "cozy" and "baggy" jeans on the armchair. How those pants could be fall under any of those categories was beyond Blaine understanding but Kurt used to argue that "they're stretch" like it was the wildest thing in the world.

"Don't wait up!" Kurt called from the hall after quickly fixing his hair and grabbed a pair of gloves of the shelf and waved them at Blaine. "Sleep well, honey!"

"Good night, have fun," Blaine answered, not bothering to get out up as Kurt was already opening the door and blowing him a kiss. And then he was gone.

Blaine closed his eyes for a moment, sinking down in the couch and listened to the dull music of the credits of the movie they had been watching. Even though it was nice and warm under the blanket there was a significant difference from when Kurt had been at the other side with his legs on Blaine's just minutes ago. The contrast was so sharp when Blaine stretched out his legs and there was no protest. From his exposed feet spread a sensation of coldness through his body, like a dull ache. The fact that Kurt had left him when he might as well have stayed at home was the worst part. It meant that he'd rather be somewhere else than right here, with Blaine, on the couch in his ridiculous pants and letting his hair get messed up against the cushions. And Blaine didn't want him to be somewhere else, because Blaine couldn't be there.

He heaved up from the sofa and switched off the TV and thought about how ridiculous he was being. So what if Kurt wanted to go out with his friends the one night before his only free day and live a little? He sure as hell was entitled. He wasn't obliged to spend every moment he could with his boyfriend. That would be ridiculous.

It wasn't as if he saw them _every other day of the week_. Blaine rolled his eyes and headed to the bathroom. He might as well get ready for bed.

The thing was, Blaine thought about the time when Kurt _was_ obliged to spend every moment he could with him. Simply because he wanted to. Among friends they would huddle together and when they got home nothing could tear them apart.

Of course the sort of desperately clinging behavior that new love brings had subdued with time, becoming less clingy and more natural, acting like an extension of each other's bodies. It's a wonderful thing, knowing another person so throughly that you don't even have to look at them to know what they're doing. But it also becomes very evident when they're not there, it's like a part of you is missing, as cheesy as that may sound.

Blaine was such a physical being – he'd always shown his love through his actions, written all over his face and body. Before they got together and before Blaine even realized what Kurt meant to him he had still always been drawn to him. Not in a sexual way, just in the way that it had felt so natural to be near him and reach out to him. Blaine was comfortable around most people, often coming across as flirty when he was just being friendly, but Kurt had been different, so instant. Kurt however hadn't been as accustomed to touching as him in the beginning, they were simply different in that way. Not that it ever had been a real problem and like Blaine Kurt was always expressing his emotions through his body language, but Blaine was dependent on physical closeness. It was probably a deeply psychologic reason for this, rooting in his deprived childhood or whatever, but to Blaine it was just part of his personality.

So to feel like the one person who has been there for the entirety of Blaine grown up life was slipping away, even walking away, is physically painful.

Blaine thought about all this, as he was brushing his teeth and cleaning his face, taking on his pajamas and sliding in between the cool sheets. Perhaps not in so many words, but he thinks about how they used to be, and how they still are but how that cold feeling has started weight down his chest the past months. It's not all the time, and it's not unbearable. It's just strange, like a touch he didn't ask for. Like a touch he can't have.

* * *

><p>Blaine was a heavy sleeper, always had been. When he was a child he once slept through the fire alarm – fortunately there wasn't a real fire and he probably wouldn't do that now. Because there is an exception. When he's waiting for Kurt to come home, or is anxious in any way, he sleeps lightly, letting sounds interfere with his dreams.<p>

That is why he woke up and squinted at the alarm clock at 2.15, the second after the door was locked up. Honestly, he was barely awake, a fine line threading the difference between half asleep and half awake. But his mind slowly registered Kurt's fumbling in the hall and quick visit to the bathroom (five minutes was quick for his usually elaborate skin care routine). Blaine was almost drifting off when Kurt entered the bedroom, obviously trying to be as quiet as possible but failing vividly as he hit his toe against the bed.

"Fuck!" he hissed and stumbled down on the bed with a loud thud. There is no way that Blaine would not wake from this disturbance, even though he would like to just pretend to be asleep so that he doesn't have to face a drunk Kurt. He had to get up in four hours and besides, drunk Kurt isn't as fun as it sounds at two in the morning.

Kurt had landed diagonally across the bed, with his face down besides Blaine's pillow. He grunted an apology and sat on his knees, pulling off his shirt and looking down on Blaine.

Blaine adjusted himself deeper down under the blanket and yawned.

"That's okay... Just try to sleep, okay," he mumbled, making himself sound sleepier than he actually was and hoping to distract from the fact that Kurt obviously had taken off his shirt in a sensual manner and now was leaning down towards Blaine and biting his lip as he tried to get his jeans unbuttoned. Blaine would have found it highly amusing had it been under different circumstances, because those buttons were tricky and Kurt's hand were uncoordinated in this state and Kurt's expression went from sultry to concentrated to frustrated within seconds. However, Blaine just felt annoyed, why was Kurt being such a _baby_?

Blaine sighed and sat up a little, motioning to Kurt to roll over on his back and he happily obliged and started humming softly as Blaine unbuttoned his fly and started pulling off his pants.

"Lift your ass," he said and Kurt's singing was interrupted by snicker as he lifted his hips a bit higher than necessary. Blaine rolled his eyes and had to crawl down to the foot of the bed to peel the jeans off his giggling boyfriend. He threw them towards the chair by the desk which always ended up covered in clothes and then lied back down on the mattress. Kurt had gone silent and rolled off the bed to slip under the covers. Under the covers and over Blaine.

He snaked a hand over Blaine's t-shirt and nuzzled in tight to his neck, his eyelashes tickling with every blink. It did not exactly appear that he has sleep on his mind.

"Kurt, you know I have to work in the morning," said Blaine and turned his face away from him to look at the clock again. Kurt took this opportunity to lick the exposed muscle of Blaine's neck. Licking – _you really are drunk_ Blaine thought, somewhat amused but mostly irritated and stressed because he knew that for every minute that passed he decreased his chance of getting a good night's sleep.

"But it's been so looooong," Kurt complained and bit the line of Blaine jaw sloppily, but clearly determined.

Blaine allowed himself to close his eyes for a brief second because yes, it had been _too_ long. But he knew that if he let this get any further he would screw up his sleeping habits and end up with the entire week messed up and exhausted. He shifted a bit to put some distance between them but Kurt only drew in closer. _What part of "no" do you not understand? _Blaine thought as Kurt's leg wrapped over Blaine's.

"Kurt, I'm serious, I want to sleep," he said and pushed Kurt away with his shoulder. He felt Kurt freeze against him and was expecting a protest of some sort but he simply sighed dramatically and collapsed on his back. Blaine immediately missed the warmth of his body.

"Fine," Kurt said and pulled up the blanket to his chin, clearly not happy about this but aware of that he couldn't force Blaine to sleep with him. He turned his back to him. "Good night, Blaine."

Blaine was torn between the impulse to draw him back in and kiss him, and the rational option of turning around and going to sleep. He settled on the middle road and hoped that Kurt wouldn't get the wrong idea.

"Hey come here," he said and curled up against Kurt, an arm over his bare waist under the blanket and a closed eye in his hair. He smiled faintly as Kurt relaxed against him, but not before smacking his tongue and remarking that Blaine was such a cuddle whore.

"Hm, really, is that so?" Blaine murmured.

"Yes!" said Kurt as if it the most obvious thing in the world.

Blaine just hmmm:ed a little against Kurt's neck, not particularity minding that he was agreeing to his statement.

"Hmmmm," Kurt echoed, sliding from a freakishly high pitch down to Blaine's low mumble. Even though Kurt was in one of his crazy moods, Blaine could sense him calming down and sinking down against the bed, accepting the prospect of sleep.

"Lucky for you, so am I," Kurt confessed in a exaggerated whisper and Blaine patted his stomach a little.

"Yes, very lucky. Now sleep," Blaine said in the same phoney way, not wanting to encourage Kurt but finding it hard to resist.

"Schhh..." Kurt hushed as if Blaine had been the one disrupting the quiet of the night. Blaine inhaled deeply as he snuggled in closer to prove that he now was going to sleep. Kurt yawned and Blaine knew he had won.

"I love you," Kurt drawled in the next yawn, his mouth so wide open that Blaine could feel his neck and shoulders tensing.

"I love you too."

It was a little funny how Blaine could be fuming with Kurt one second and so content the next. But then again, Blaine depended on physical closeness, and right then this was exactly what he needed. Just to fall a sleep wrapped over Kurt. Just to know that he was there.

* * *

><p>Monday morning doesn't have a very nice ring to it. The alarm was going off in a torturous manner and the two men stirred grumpily. Blaine groaned but forced himself to separate his skin from Kurt's side and reach for his beeping phone on the nightstand. It was something of an effort to stay upright and not lie down again – the room was cold and the bed was so warm.<p>

Blaine yawned and stretched as he swung his legs over the bedside and let the chilling sensation of the floor send uncomfortable shivers all through his body. Oh how he hated early mornings, especially when it sounded like a storm outside.

As Blaine stood up, empowered with the though of coffee, a small whimper came from the bed. Blaine picked up a cardigan from the chair and turned around to find Kurt sprawled out across the bed, arms and legs sticking out from under the cover. Blaine couldn't tell if he was awake or not, because Kurt had his eyes closed but was flailing with his arms as if he was searching for something.

It was a suicide mission but Blaine couldn't just leave him like that. So he climbed onto the bed again and grasped Kurt's hand.

"Hey hey, sch... just go back to sleep," he whispered and started pulling at the quilt to cover Kurt's limbs. Kurt curled up into a little ball at his touch and opened one squinting eye.

"Am I alive?" he said, his voice husky and cracking at the vowels.

Blaine stroked a lock of hair out of Kurt's forehead and tried not to be too condescending in his answer. He hated seeing Kurt like this, but while one part of him wanted to hold him another part wanted to scream at his self pity. Kurt had brought this on himself, he could have just stayed at home with Blaine.

"I have to go to work," he said and placed a kiss on his temple, avoiding any risk of morning breath mingling. "I'll be home at three."

Kurt's head twitched in what Blaine interpreted as a nod so he got up and Kurt scrunched his eyes together and put Blaine's pillow over his ear. Off to face another day.

* * *

><p>Blaine knew that it was going to be a shitty day. There just was no getting around the fact that autumn of 2020 was planning on swallowing New York whole and pestering them with grey skies and ashen faces. It did not exactly help that Blaine would be coming home to a grumpy hungover boyfriend and then going to sleep and repeating it all. Life was a little tedious at the moment, and he was a little lost in the routine of it all.<p>

Blaine enjoyed his work though. There was no denying that his dreams of singing on stage and writing music had been put aside years ago to be able to pay rent. He had started giving singing lessons as a stray job but ended up working as a vocal coach at a private school. It was quite a prestigious job at such a young age, but at 26 years of age he had spent 22 of them learning music.

He loved being able to help young musicians to find their own voice and way, that was why he had stuck around and stopped pursuing those big stage dreams. There also comes a time in your life when you need to look at where you are and where you want to be. Sort out your priorities and figure out what's realistic. Getting rejected year after year, audition after audition, takes a lot energy and the thought of settling for the next best thing doesn't seem so bad after all.

So maybe Blaine had let go of his dreams a little. It wasn't as if he hadn't tried. And it had never been a conscious decision to let go. All those big plans had just faded with time, slipping away until all he was left with were the dreams of his pupils.

Blaine tried not to think about these things too hard, because it left him with itchy fingers. Instead he focused his energy into getting his students to sound as good as possible, channeling their love of singing into their performance and hoping that they'd never stop. It made him happy to see their progress, knowing that he'd helped them on their way. And he was working with music, what more could he ask for?

Perhaps a late morning.

Blaine shrugged off his coat as soon as he was inside the office and draped it over the back of his chair, hoping that it would be somewhat dry by the end of the day. It was, like every Monday, empty in the office that he shared with two other music teachers. He picked up his sheet music folder for Ivan and took a deep breath before he hurried down the corridor and let the morning tumble on.

* * *

><p>"Care if I join you?"<p>

Blaine looked up from the song he was transposing for an afternoon class and was met by a big smile and long red hair.

"Fiona! How are you?" He greeted and put his papers away, clearing the place across the table.

"Ah you know, same old, same old..." Fiona waved her hand in a dismissive manner as and put down her plate and swopped down on the chair. Blaine smiled at this, knowing Fiona she had probably participated in a hunger strike and an art project involving paint and nakedness this weekend. That would be same old for her. "But what I really want to know... How are you?"

Her eyes pierced Blaine, it was like she saw into his soul. That is perhaps something of an exaggeration but nevertheless – she was a very intense woman who had seen a lot more in her 30ish years than most people see in a lifetime. She could read people very well and this was not the first time Blaine had felt an interrogation coming.

"Nah, I'm okay," he shrugged, knowing that that was not going to be close to enough of an answer he added "I'm just having an off day. This weather is killing me."

Fiona lifted a thin eyebrow and pointed her fork at Blaine's plate.

"Something's telling me that it's a bit more than the weather. Normally you eat like a horse, Blaine." She began piercing peas from her plate onto her fork and eating them one by one as if they were berries on a straw. Fiona had these peculiar habits. People often passed of off as crazy, but she was just an odd figure. A true artist. She was eccentric and spontaneous. Blaine had liked her right away. "Boyfriend troubles?"

"Well, Kurt came home drunk last night," Blaine said. He didn't see the point in not telling. They were friends and she was willing to listen. "And that means I will be coming home to Mr Diva who will have me fetching tea and whatnot every fifteen seconds."

"I thought you loved pampering him," Fiona said, like the psychoanalyst that she clearly strived to be. He was is walking straight into this one.

"I do! I love to take care of him and make him happy but lately... I don't know. Things have been a little off." Blaine shrugged and tried to interpret Fiona expression – she was squinting and chewing slowly as if working out a riddle.

"Hm," she simply said and then leaned across the table, her necklace clonking into her glass. "I have the perfect solution."

Blaine's first reaction was fear.

"I don't think bathing in milk is gonna solve anything." It hadn't last time. Fiona smirked and rolled her eyes.

"Not that. We should go out to dinner!" She drew back to the back of her chair again opened her arms. "Problem solved!"

Blaine frowned and snickered.

"How does that solve anything?"

"You get to escape from your boyfriend's wicked ways, I get to grill you about his wicked ways _and_ you get to eat a proper meal after this anorexic behavior," Fiona explained as if reading it off a chart. "What do you say?"

Blaine hesitated. It would definitely be nice to eat out for a change, and Fiona would keep good company. But, this was Kurt's only free night and they always spent Mondays together.

"I don't know... Kurt would not be happy..." He made an apologetic face.

Fiona sighed and hooked her eyes into Blaine's.

"Blaine, you cannot let Kurt run your life. He's a big boy, surely he can manage one night without foot massage," she said, the temperature in her voice lowering by the second. She was not particular fond of Kurt. They had only met once briefly and given each other the once over, greeting cooly. Blaine thought it was strange, because in many ways they were alike – quirky and colorful and highly intelligent. But Kurt had dismissed her as a loony hippie and although Fiona had never said it out loud, Blaine could tell she thought Kurt was a bit stuck up. He couldn't really blame her though, every time he had a really bad day, the type of day that was written all over your face, it was because he had fought with Kurt. And it seemed that Fiona was especially good at sensing sadness.

Today however, Blaine was not so much sad as he was disappointed, and therefore a little angry. Just a little. Why would he stay at home for the sake of it when Kurt had no intention of doing the same?

"It's a date," he decided with a cramped smile. Fiona's grin seemed a bit more sincere. "As long as we don't go to a place that only serves crocodiles and monkey brains."

"Oh Blaine, you know I don't eat wild meat," Fiona laughed and got up. "Pick me up at seven?"

"Sure." She patted his shoulder as she walked by.

"See you then, Blaine."

* * *

><p>Blaine was greeted with the buzzing sound of the sowing machine when he walked in the door.<p>

"Hello!" he called out and removed his jacket. The sun had come out after all and his mood had elevated a little. The sound from the living room stopped and Kurt greeted him back. Blaine picked up the bag with groceries and walked through the living room into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" he asked Kurt's back.

"Just fixing a rip in this shirt and sowing some buttons – CPR for clothes basically," Kurt said as Blaine started placing food in the refrigerator.

"You got a headache?" Blaine had picked up Alka-Seltzer, just in case.

"Like you wouldn't believe. It's better now though." Kurt voice was closer, he was leaning against the counter behind Blaine. "I'm pretty sure I swam home."

Blaine snorted.

"I've seen worse," he reassured and folded up the bag and put it in a drawer next to Kurt.

"Yeah, so have I," Kurt said and raised a brow at him.

"Ah, come on, I am not that bad! You practically molested me last night."

"Oh Blaine, you know what this always will lead back to," Kurt said in a singsong voice and Blaine rolled his eyes. Every time. "I molesting you will never be half as bad as you molesting Rachel. And then dating her. Sober. And you cannot argue with this."

Blaine could not argue with that. But he could try.

"Oh Kurt, you are a limited man. Rachel has depths that you will never know of!" he teased.

"That's disgusting."

Blaine scrunched his face together.

"I didn't mean that!"

"Now I've really got a headache..." Kurt groaned and pouted. Blaine laughed and poured him a glass of water.

"I bought Alka-Seltzer for you," he said and handed Kurt the glass. "Again."

"Do I detect a hint of bitterness? Are you claiming that I am a gold digger, alluring you to buy me hangover medicine until you're broke and I can toss you away like a bottle cork?" Despite Kurt's state he was sharp as a tack when it came to wit. It was as if it pumped through his veins, unstoppable and at all times. Blaine could swear that Kurt wasn't aware of half of the funny things he said until he said them, it was simply his way of thinking. And putting it into words that no one else could. "I have been caught."

So despite the fact that yes, Blaine was actually a little bitter, he couldn't help but to smile. If not because Kurt was being cute, he felt a sting of guilt since this was pretty much what he had complained to Fiona about. Perhaps not in so many and so dramatic words, but it had been implied that he felt a little used.

Blaine cleared his throat and opened the cabinet to their vast coffee collect.

"So now that I know that Mr Seltzer will be taking care of you, I'm going out to dinner with Fiona tonight," he said.

"Oh," Kurt said after a second and Blaine reached for the instant mocha. "On our sacred day?"

"There is nothing sacred about Mondays, Kurt," Blaine tried to joke but as he fiddled with the coffee machine he could see Kurt's mouth tensing and his posture getting straighter.

"Well, Blaine, you may not think so but they are to me. I even picked out a movie for us to watch... Cabaret!" Kurt said as if that was the worst crime of all. Blaine felt a tingling sensation of irritation running up his back.

"Well I'm sorry, I guess I just figured that after the movie you would either run out on me or, oh I don't know – fall asleep," Blaine snapped and gestured wildly with the coffee cups in his hands.

"_Excuse me_," Kurt hissed. "Run out on you? If you are talking about last night I _invited _you to come along, but you refused, because you_ always _do, Blaine. And fall asleep?Do you mean Friday night, because I said I was sorry about that and there is really nothing else I can do!"

Blaine exhaled through his nose and turned around to the counter. Blaine could not sit this one out, but he was a little afraid of what might come out of his mouth right now so he needed a moment. And the silence hung in the air, thick as tension, before he started talking, slowly but with force.

"Really, because last time I checked it was not obligatory to spend Sunday nights with your friends and get wasted." Blaine turned around again and continued before Kurt could interrupt. "_I don't recall _seeing in your contract that you would wear yourself out to the point where you snooze off when your boyfriend's trying to give you a blow job. And I don't remember losing so much sleep over waiting for you to come home, just so that I'll see you at all. So I just figured that maybe, for a change, I would get out of this fucking apartment and go to a nice restaurant with my friend, at a reasonable hour, and enjoy myself a little." Blaine wasn't screaming, but it was close enough. He took a breath, lowering his tone slightly. "But if that is too much to ask, please, do tell."

His heart was beating fast, but it was almost an relief. As if it had been waiting to be released at any rate. He'd watched Kurt clutching his glass and narrowing his eyes, knowing as he went that this easily could be turned into a shouting match. But he didn't care. All this pressure in his chest was screaming for release and all he felt was anger. Anger for carrying this around all day and angry at Kurt being so naïve. Angry at himself because he knew how petty he sounded when he just wanted Kurt to understand that he has been missing him colossally. And there is guilt and shame and loneliness but it all just adds up into a heap of anger.

And Blaine has seen the same emotion flicking through Kurt's eyes and the moment Blaine stopped and invited him into the argument, saying _please bite back so that we can put this behind us,_ he expected a war. Because Kurt was not one who backs down, he fought to the death of it when he was right and Blaine knew that he partly was.

But Blaine watched as Kurt face went blank. Seconds passed. Kurt's eyes flickered between Blaine and the coffee machine.

"Of course you should go out," he finally said. His voice was strangely calm and steady, perhaps a bit lower than usual. He took a cup from the counter and placed it under the coffee machine. Blaine frowned and watched closely, as if waiting for a bomb to explode.

But it didn't.

"We can watch the movie now instead," Kurt continued, as if they had had a quiet discussion about this all along. "I'll be too tired later anyway."

Blaine knew he should feel grateful, glad that he had such an understanding and mature boyfriend. But all he could feel was confusion, a sense of being lost. They had fought many times but never had either of them backed down like this. They would apologize when they had been wrong, when the stupidity of the situation settled in and could accept their mistake and move on. It had made them stronger as a whole, building them up rather than tearing them apart.

But this was a different kind of wall. A wall between them, and for a brief second Blaine saw it – as real as the table or his own nose. It was when Kurt had looked down at the floor with heavy eyelids, and then looked to his left, on the clock on the wall and away from Blaine. So very, very far away.

Blaine swallowed. He didn't know what to make of this.

"But you just said..." he started because he needed so desperately to cling to the anger, not the unease.

Kurt rubbed his temples and closed his eyes.

"Please, Blaine, not now," he said and Blaine could hear his pain. He just wished he knew where it was coming from. And Blaine, compassionate and caring Blaine, could not stay angry. Not when Kurt begged him not to. Not when he had no right to be.

"Okay, fine," he said. But the words were heavy, difficult to drag out of his mouth and placing them in the air. A such tremendous lie.

Kurt took the coffee cup and handed it to him.

"I better not have any. I need to hydrate." Kurt offered him a quick smile and touched Blaine's hand over the cup. "Hey... I'm not upset that you're going out so wipe that sulky look of your face. You win okay? I get it, I'm high maintenance sometimes. I know that."

Blaine wanted to shout that that's not the issue, that if he could he would spoil him rotten. But he only got to shaking his head before Kurt placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him on the lips. It was short and dry but Kurt smiled afterwards and Blaine's train of thought got lost for one sweet moment. Then he blinked and Kurt was prancing off to the living room, turning the TV on and climbing up in the sofa.

"Are you coming?"

Blaine looked down at his coffee. The smell of mocha filled the kitchen, rich and sweet. A scent he'd always associated with Kurt and his time at Dalton. With youth and love.

Not with the numbness that was crawling beneath his skin, taking over the previous rush of adrenaline.

"I'll be right there," he answered.

Blaine spilled the brown liquid into the sink and let the water run. He didn't know why. He never let coffee go to waste.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AUTHOR'S NOTE<br>_**_This chapter was intended to have a longer storyline but somehow I couldn't stop rambling about Blaine so the page numbers kept increasing... So Chapter 3 is half written already_ _and involves_ _a bunch of weird things_. _Let me just say - things will get interesting. Please let me know what you think :)_


	3. Chapter 3

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE #1**_  
>This took longer to update than I thought - I was so busy flailing over that THEY KISSED at tumblr (and around my apartment for that matter) that I simply couldn't focus on much else. I'm sure you understand.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 3<em>

"What will it be?"

Blaine looked at the menu in his hand. Fiona had suggested a vegetarian restaurant next door but they'd walked past this place, which served meat which Blaine was craving.

"I think... I will have the lamb," he settled and handed his menu to the waiter.

"Yeah, me too," Fiona said.

"Aren't you a vegetarian?" Blaine asked as the waiter walked away.

"Not tonight." Fiona raised her glass for a toast and Blaine followed. "Here's to raised meat!"

"Sure," Blaine laughed and clonked his full beer glass carefully into hers. They sipped their drinks in silence.

"So, I heard that our dear principal Urley is cutting back on teachers again," Fiona said matter of factly. "Only a rumor of course, but considering last years setback it wouldn't be a surprise now would it."

Blaine frowned, it was the first that he'd heard of this.

"But he can't cut down on the musical institution, it's already hard to make ends meet, both in resources and schedule time," he said. Fiona shrugged.

"That's just it though, if they minimize the time that each student has private lessons with say, twenty minutes every week, they can let fewer teachers teach more students, but for the same amount of hours. And Urley will get in more money because he will be able to rob, I'm sorry, admit a higher number of students," she explained. "It's all logistics."

Blaine shook his head.

"And the fact that the kids won't get as much education and recognition doesn't bother him?"

"Hello, have you _met_ Stan Urley?"

Blaine sighed and took another sip of his beer. Fantastic. If this was true he would have to work more – having more students meant more preparation and planning and effort for the same money. Not that money was all that important to Blaine, but he and Kurt had been hoping to be able to move to a bigger apartment sometime in the future. A raise didn't seems very likely at the moment though.

"What if he fires me?" he realized and his stomach clenched at the thought. But Fiona just laughed.

"Blaine," she said, turning sweet and serious. "You are singlehandedly the reason to why more than half of those kids get up on stage and give it all they got. Without you, there might not even be a show." She squeezed his hand on the table and Blaine smiled at her kind words.. "Plus, Urley thinks you're hot. He would be crazy to fire you."

"Wait wait, what was that?" Blaine gasped.

"He would be crazy to fire you," Fiona repeated slowly, enunciating with a gleam in her eye. Blaine cocked his head and waited for her explanation. She leaned in as if she was about to tell a secret. "I was waiting in his office the other day and while he was out wandering the halls, making lightning strike or whatever, I innocently peeked down into one of his open drawers and there..." she paused for effect, "was a photo of you. A real printed one – you don't see that too often these days do you. So I connected the dots and came to the conclusion that you've got yourself a pinstriped, sock ironing admirer. Ta-dah!" She drew back with a triumphant smirk and Blaine tried not to marvel at the fact that Kurt once had told him that he used to iron his socks.

"Fiona, you're crazy!" he laughed and she made a _tell me something new_ face and shrugged. "That does not mean that Mr Urley, who is married to a woman and has as much compassion as a wet towel, fancies anything about me." The thought was absolutely absurd. "On the contrary – he probably has the picture to deface during lunch. I bet he has an entire collection of photos of the entire staff and student body or anyone else he might hate. And that's a lot of photos, let me tell you."

Fiona shook her head and bit her lip. There was more?

"The photo was not exactly of you face, Blaine," she said and looked highly amused at Blaine's confusion. "It was more... ass-centric."

"What?" Blaine stared at her and didn't know what to believe. It wasn't like Fiona to lie but that his 60 year old boss would keep photos of his ass in his office was a little hard to get into his brain.

"Yep, that's right," Fiona said, almost sounding bored. Blaine gaped.

"And how do you know it what my ass?" Blaine asked and Fiona smiled slyly at him.

"Blaine, I'd recognize your behind anywhere. Oh, look, here comes the food!"

* * *

><p>The rest of the evening was less abnormal and more pleasant, although the many ups and downs of the day had left Blaine feeling a little woozy.<p>

"So Blaine, tell me what's on your mind. I can see there is something eating you," Fiona said and put down her fork to pour some water.

"Except the fact that principle Urley finds it a good idea to keep my butt in his drawer?" he joked but she ignored him.

"Is it Kurt? What has he done?" Her voice was a little hard and Blaine's first instinct was to shield Kurt from such coldness and deny that anything is wrong. But Blaine knew that she wouldn't buy it and besides, it's nice with a friend who cares. Someone to listen.

"We had a fight when I got home," Blaine confessed and leaned back a little. "Or, it wasn't exactly a fight. At first he got upset that I was going out on his free night and then I called him out on doing the same thing yesterday, and for being too tired when he is home. And then he completely backed down." Blaine shuffled the rice around on his plate. "It was just weird, and not at all what I expected. Kurt always defends himself when he feels he's being attacked, he doesn't just surrender."

"Maybe he has matured," Fiona suggested. Blaine looked up at her and thought about it.

"Well... yes. In many ways he has. I mean, he's definitely not the same insecure and angry boy that I first met. But... it almost felt like he was afraid to argue. Maybe he was just too tired to fight with the hangover and all but the way he distanced himself and did a complete u-turn just so that we could sit and watch a goddamn movie, it just felt strange." Blaine paused briefly but Fiona didn't interrupt. "And during the movie he was very distant, he didn't even ask me to get him anything, even when I asked him if I could."

Blaine bit his lip, not knowing if he should let the next part slip or not. But Fiona remained quiet so it just kept coming.

"I just have a fear..." Blaine looked out the window and then down in his plate, taking a breath, "that we are growing apart. Or rather, while he is growing and realizing his dreams I am stuck at the same place I was three years ago. I don't know how to measure up to singing on freaking Broadway six days and eight performances a week and what if he feels the same way?"

Blaine could see the desperation in his own voice reflecting on Fiona's face and he quickly looked down again. These were things he barely dared to think and now when he'd said them out loud then seemed both childish and real.

"Blaine," Fiona said softly, quirking her head to catch his gaze. "You're probably not gonna like me very much for saying this but I am speaking as a friend so just hear me out."

She bit her lip and Blaine nodded before she continued.

"Maybe you're right – maybe you are growing apart. That happens to people. I know it sound simple and cynical but what I have seen is that despite that there is love that lasts forever, it still isn't enough. Because life comes in between and in the end that's what rips you apart, because life shapes you as human beings. It's like..." she stopped to search for the right words. "It's like _anything_ in life. You live with it for a while, you love it, and you think you never want to be without it. But you wear it out and there comes as day when you will need to replace it." Blaine opened his mouth to protest but Fiona held up a hand in defense. "I'm not saying that you should go home and break up with Kurt. I just know that lately you've been sad and when people start making each other sad that's a pretty good cue for good byes. Ten years is more than most people get."

Blaine wasn't quite sure what to respond to this. Never had it crossed his mind to leave Kurt. It made him want to reach into his brain and remove the memory of that thought. He felt as though this was blown out of proportion – so what if they had been a little distant lately, every relationship has its problems. They had just been blessed to go without for so long. _Ten years is more than most people get_.

"You're wrong," he said and when she smiled a little he felt betrayed. "How can you sit there and say that... I-" he trailed of and turned around to signal the waiter. "I'm sorry, I have to go home."

"I know that's not what you wanna hear right now but I hope that soon you will be able to see things a little clearer. It's for your own good."

Blaine couldn't respond to this infuriating statement before the waiter came over and gave them the check.

"Oh no, I'm paying for this. This was my idea and look at all the trouble I got you into," Fiona said when Blaine reached for his wallet. She was her quirky self but a hint of sorrow in her voice that Blaine couldn't ignore. He put his hand over hers as she opened the check book.

"I just really need you to know, that you are wrong and that there will never be a time when leaving the love of your life is the right thing to do." He said it as kindly as he possibly could – he didn't want her to think that he was upset with her. She looked down at their hands for a moment shook her head a little, smiling.

"You're a hopeless romantic, aren't you?" she said and Blaine had to agree. "Let's just hope that Kurt is too then."

She withdrew her hand to pay and Blaine distracted himself by standing up and putting on his coat. He couldn't get out of there fast enough. He needed to see Kurt, to make sure that nothing had changed, not really.

He walked Fiona home, it was just a couple of blocks, and even though the mood was a little awkward they parted as friends. Fiona apologized for being so blunt and kissed him on the cheek.

"It's by best and worst trait," she admitted. "See you tomorrow, bubble butt."

* * *

><p>Blaine was home within ten minutes, even though it had taken him more like 20 to get there. It was only 9.30 so Kurt should still be up.<p>

_Please still be up_.

Blaine's heart sank a little when he opened the door and was greeted with darkness. Things were not exactly clicking today. He closed the door quietly and kicked off his shoes and hung up his coat. He was headed to the bathroom to wash up when he entered the living room but a sound made him look left instead of going to his right.

The bedroom door was half open, it was dark inside but as Blaine took a few steps closer he could hear the heavy breathing distinctively. He pushed the door open and tried to focus in the dark.

Kurt was lying on his back in the bed, the blanket up to his chest and knees sticking up. He has his eyes closed but not relaxed and Blaine caught the slow movement beneath the quilt.

So Kurt was masturbating.

This was new.

Blaine stayed absolutely still for a moment and tried to figure out what to make of this. Is he supposed to feel rejected? Not worth waiting for? Like an intruder?

Perhaps.

Perhaps he did feel that way. But fact is that all he'd wanted to come of to was Kurt, to hold him and promise never to let go.

So Blaine just felt his pulse go up a little as Kurt drew in a sharp breath and shifted his hips a little.

When Blaine took a step into the room the floorboard creaked and Kurt's eyes shot wide open and sat straight up.

"Oh my god," he exclaimed breathlessly and pulled the blanket up over his one shoulder, even though he was wearing a shirt. He was looking more than a little flushed. "I... I... didn't hear you coming."

"Um, I was trying to be quiet 'cause I thought you were sleeping," Blaine said and moved towards the bed. Then he smiled a little. "Are you blushing?"

"What? No! You just... caught me off guard."

"I'll say."

Kurt let the blanket fall off his upper body as Blaine crawled over the bed and inhaled the sight of Kurt's ruffled hair and hazy eyes. He just needed to be closer, to touch.

"I missed you tonight," he said and closed the vivid distance between his lips and the edge of Kurt's jaw. Kurt stretched out his neck and hmmm:ed in consent as Blaine placed open mouth kisses down the smooth skin. Kurt fell back on his back again and drew Blaine along with him with a hand on his neck. Blaine smiled against Kurt's collarbone as Kurt grabbed his wrist and guided him under the blanket. He let Blaine's hand freely wedge in under his waistband and pulled back a little to watch Kurt's face as he closed his fingers around the base. Kurt's eyes fluttered shut and he rolled his head back a little as Blaine started stroking. Blood rushed hotly through Blaine's body at the sight and he inhaled the smell of Kurt's neck and listened to the raged breaths.

They had not done this for quite some time. Hand jobs had taken the backseat once they had moved on to actual sex. But it was quite nice, Blaine thought as he got to watch as low moans erupted from Kurt's parted lips. It felt a bit like they were back in Kurt's old bedroom in Ohio and had closed the door and hoped that Burt wouldn't come home from work early. Blaine felt the same kind of urgency as then, not knowing how long this moment was going to last. But for entirely different reasons than before.

It was nice, just skin against skin, and watching through his eyelashes how Kurt reacted when he started to go a little faster – his hips jerked up against Blaine's arm and he opened his eyes long enough to locate Blaine's mouth. Not that he had to look very far. Blaine kissed him quickly but purposely, leaving him to catch his breath that was becoming a steady rhythm of hitches.

Blaine slowed down and loosened his grip a little, just to feel Kurt push up against him in complaint. He fell back on the opposite side of Kurt's neck, lying over his chest, and tried not to be bothered about the layers of clothing that were separating them. As if Kurt had read his mind he had his hand sliding up Blaine's shirt and scratching across his shoulder blades.

Blaine continued to kiss and suck and softly bite the length of Kurt's neck, up to the spot behind his ear. He drew away a little to collect a shaky breath. When he let the hot air out, ghosting over Kurt's earlobe, a shiver went through his body as Kurt opened his mouth a little wider and made a guttural sound that Blaine had exclusive right to. He buried his face in the nape of Kurt neck because the thought of giving that up was unbearable. Seconds after Kurt arched his chest up against Blaine's and let out a squeaky breath as he came. Blaine tenderly stroked him through the orgasm and concentrated on the spastic energy of Kurt's body beneath him.

This was such a familiar setting. Such a comfort in knowing that Kurt was right there, with no other worries than this moment. There was no risk of misunderstanding or trouble because right then, they were only each others. But due to what had been going on lately that feeling was almost overwhelming to Blaine – his odd feelings mixing with the familiarity of having Kurt's body respond to his touch. It made him never want to let go.

When Kurt relaxed against the pillows Blaine kissed him on the shoulder and snuggled in very close to his side. He dragged his hand up over Kurt's stomach and settled in the place between two ribs where Blaine could feel his heart beat franticly.

"Blaine..." Kurt mumbled into his hair but Blaine shook his head and Kurt didn't continue. Blaine didn't want this to be soiled by words. Not now.

Kurt shifted to his side and ran his hand from Blaine's cheek, over his arm and to his hip. He licked his lips and leaned a little closer.

"On your back," he whispered and Blaine had no protests to those particular words.

Kurt undid his jeans in one swift moment and Blaine sighed at the release. Kurt steadied himself up on his hand and smirked a little before bending down to literally make out with Blaine's neck.

Blaine let his eyes shut and just feel how Kurt moved above him, leaving his side and straddling his ankles and hitching up his shirt with grabby hands. He leaned over him and kissed a line down Blaine's taunt stomach and when Blaine pressed his hips against Kurt's shoulders his hands slid down Blaine's sides and yanked his pants and underwear off. Blaine inhaled sharply at the sudden exposure and lifted his head a little to look down to see two of Kurt's fingers curving around the shaft and closing his mouth around him. Blaine let his head fall back against the pillow again and tried not to move against Kurt's teasing tongue.

This moment was delicate, a way to reassure one another that they were not going anywhere. Thoughts like that rumbled around somewhere in Blaine's mind but frankly, it was a bit difficult to focus on such philosophy when Kurt decided to take him deeper in his mouth and Blaine had to grasp the sheets because it felt so _good_. Blaine did however think about how Kurt had placed his hand on Blaine inner thigh and something about that made Blaine smile and grasp for Kurt's fingertips on the mattress.

Kurt stopped moving his head and rubbed gently at Blaine's groin, allowing Blaine to move his hips up and down in small thrusts. Kurt grabbed hold of Blaine's upper thigh to control the movement because he knew better than to trust Blaine's judgement in this state. And Blaine heard his own moaning in the distance – everything seemed far away except the reality of having Kurt wrapped around his legs, fingers and cock.

The beauty was in that Blaine knew that Kurt knew that when Blaine arched his lower back and pulled away a little from him, it was time to decide whether to swallow or not. It might sound like a trivial or crude thing to call beauty, but it added to the list of the many things that they only shared with each other.

Kurt gave him on last lick and then pulled off him, his palm sliding briefly against the saliva before Blaine arched his back again and let the orgasm wash over him, clenching Kurt's fingers hard and eyes shut even harder.

He came down from it panting a little, mumbling something that he didn't remember and smiled lazily when Kurt kissed his hip before crawling up on Blaine's right side and pulling the quilt over them. He kissed Blaine, soft and sweet. And still, after all that, it made Blaine's toes curl.

Kurt rolled away from him and started poking around in Blaine's nightstand and returned with two wet wipes. He first cleaned of Blaine who had gone into a state of serenity, watching Kurt's every move with a weak smile. Kurt tossed the towel aside and pulled off his pajama bottoms, grimacing a little at the stickiness and Blaine could tell that he was contemplating running off to the bathroom and shower. So Blaine put a hand at his lower back, tugging a little at the shirt and Kurt sighed and melted back against the bed and Blaine's arm.

Blaine was tired, emotionally drained and physically exhausted, but he needed to speak. Just to make sure that this moment would keep forever.

He turned to his side, at level with Kurt's eyes and was caught a little by surprise of the sincerity of Kurt's beauty.

He admired Kurt every day, in what could be described as a subconscious kind of adoration, routine. But Kurt had the kind of beauty that sometimes when you least expect it, creeps up on you and hits you in the face. At least it has that effect on Blaine. And it wasn't always the moments when Kurt would have his appearance accordingly picture perfect – with every strand of hair dictated into place and an impeccable outfit on – it was in moments like these. When he felt a little gooey and sweaty and his lips were a little swollen. When he was pale and tired and hadn't washed his hair. When his guard was down completely. This was when Blaine stopped and really _saw_, not only what he looked like, but beyond what everyone else saw. It was, to drag out an overused term, his _inner beauty_ shining through in all its glory.

Plus, he was fucking gorgeous.

Kurt would, of course, always shrug off Blaine's compliments in "this state" and although it was frustrating for Blaine to not get his message across, it was also part of the appeal. Because Kurt wasn't trying. This was his safety zone, next to Blaine, and Blaine wished for nothing else.

"I miss you," Blaine said without thinking. Kurt cleared his throat.

"I'm right here," he said and blinked. Blaine swallowed.

"I mean," Blaine traced Kurt's eyebrow with his thumb, "every day. We never see each other anymore."

His voice was soft and loving, because that was how he was feeling. In any other setting he might have had come across as whiny or accusing but that was the last thing Blaine wanted right now. Kurt was silent for a while, examining Blaine's face.

"I miss you too, Blaine," he finally said and sighed. "Of course I do. I guess I'm just a little caught up in all these new things that are happening."

"You don't need to explain, I understand." Blaine felt that it was really important that he made that clear because right then Kurt was flawless to him, and problems merely caused by surroundings. "I just miss... us. This."

Blaine's hand was resting on Kurt's neck and he stroked his ever so slightly stubbled jawline. Kurt closed his eyes.

"Me too. Right now I wish we could stay like this forever." He opened them again. "It will just take some getting used to, working separate hours. Sometimes I think that I'll go crazy pacing around in the afternoons but... we'll just have to live with that don't we. And enjoy the time that we do get to spend together. Make sure that we put it to good use."

Blaine felt at peace with that and any worrying seemed distant when Kurt was so close and speaking so calmly. Blaine nodded in the tiniest way he knew how and let his heavy eyelids shut. Kurt kissed the corner of his mouth and touched his cheek before turning around and pulling Blaine's arm around him.

"You're on my side of the bed," Blaine muttered into Kurt's spine because it was irrelevant and true.

"And you're on mine," Kurt reminded him distantly.

And then they slept.

* * *

><p>Words, they can come so easy.<p>

Promises spoken by a lover in a moment when you only have eyes for each other should not be taken too seriously, should not be counted on as spells that will make everything alright.

Yet those words can mean everything, because in that moment that was all there was and it was all you wished to hear.

Blaine wanted to believe that things would be just fine, as long as they prioritized their life together. As long as they didn't blame each other and tried to listen to how the other person felt.

But none of this had actually been discussed. Blaine had just assumed that they both would try a little harder. And they did.

For a while.

But change doesn't come easily, not when you're living a busy life and all the change you can make is to leave the bathroom light on when your boyfriend comes home smelling like a vineyard.

The last couple of weeks had been nice. It hadn't been like falling in love all over again, or escaping reality at every cost, but Blaine had been so determined to not let anything get him down that it simply hadn't. It helped that Kurt seemed a bit more relaxed than he had been since the premiere, not as edgy. And Blaine thought maybe that was it, maybe it was all nerves.

Blaine had a vivid memory of a deadly nervous Kurt before his first solo at regionals and even though he wasn't close to puking before he went on stage nowadays, he still got royally nervous. Kurt was a hopeless perfectionist and even though he had a sense of humor about it, Blaine knew that he had an aching need to prove himself worthy of everyone's attention. Not in the way that he needed to please everyone, that had never been a goal of his, but he needed to know that he had done his outmost best. And that can be a lot of pressure, Blaine got that.

So maybe the crazy haze of being on Broadway had settled a little, maybe he didn't have to cling so hard to it, as if he feared it was going to be taken away from it any minute. Blaine thought this, and hoped he was right. Because it was hard enough being apart without the distance that had grown between them even when they were together.

So they got by, they had their share of intimate moments and they had their share of usual fights. Sometimes Kurt would go out and even though Blaine preferred it when he didn't, it was alright too, because he sent hilarious texts to Blaine. But there would be moments when Blaine would look at Kurt and not know what or who he saw.

Anyone who ever met Kurt knew that his face was like a manual of expression – so open and true. But sometimes he would go blank, switch off and Blaine wasn't familiar with that. Everything else Blaine could deal with – anger, hurt and tears – but how do you respond to someone who isn't responding? Blaine couldn't do anything else but take it, like a punch in the stomach. He didn't want to be the one to pick fights, especially not over the fact that Kurt _wouldn't_ fight.

Except for those moments, which were few but painful, they were fine.

And then Blaine got called to principle Urley's office a Wednesday morning and was told he was being replaced.

Urley had sat him down and stood up and told him that they had found someone that was actually certificated as a music teacher. Blaine thought that he hadn't heard correctly.

"Excuse me?"

"This was only supposed to be temporary anyway, Mr Anderson," said Urley in his driest voice and Blaine's heart stopped. "We hired you because you had such remarkable reviews from your private pupils but you are simply not as highly educated as this school's reputation demands and therefore I have taken it upon myself to find a teacher who is."

"Temporary? But I've worked here for three years and I haven't been critiqued for being unqualified a single time!" Blaine said and tried to collect his spinning head to form arguments.

"This is not open to discussion," Urley cut in. "This school is at a turning point and I will choose my battles wisely." He fixed his stern gaze at the door over Blaine's head.

"You know damn well that I am a good teacher to my students and I have more musical experience than half of the teachers in this school so why don't you just tell me what this really is about," Blaine said and met the older man's eyes. He refused to look away even though he felt like he was about to be executed. The anger kept him focused.

"The matter has been settled," Urley repeated and even though his face was blank as soggy paper Blaine saw his jaw clenching. "Your contract will not be extended past this term."

"What?" Blaine jumped up on his feet. "You mean to tell me that you will fire me in the middle of the school year? What about the students? How are they going to get proper grades if you change teachers one term from another? Did you think about that _at all_?"

Blaine realized that he probably wasn't helping his cause but he was so angry he didn't care. Urley remained calm as a mountain.

"You will leave written judgements of all of your students and they are to be handed over to your replacement by the end of the term." Urley twisted his mouth. "It will be more than enough."

Blaine felt like he was in a movie, the obscure kind with the merciless boss and the guy that sees the world crumble at his feet. Or goes on a killing spree.

"You can't do this! This can't be legal!" he almost shouted. "I have done nothing but work my ass off these years and I've poured my heart and soul into those students. This is ridiculous!"

He stood in front of the big desk, torn apart, trying to break through the enormous block of ice that was principle Urley. It appears that he had hit a nerve. Urley leaned forward a little.

"What you do on your spare time, Anderson, is entirely up to yourself. But you do not behave however you want in a workplace, in my workplace." His voice was still steady but had a different edge to it, sharper. "This meeting is over so you can now remove yourself from my office."

Blaine stared at him for a moment, his head was pounding along with his heart. He tried to make sense of his words. _What exactly is he accusing me of?_

"So that's it. You're just a power-drunk homophobe with no sense of obligation towards the kids of your own school," Blaine said because he knew it was true. "I can sue you for that."

"You most certainly will not. You are not qualified to work as a teacher and especially not when you go around spreading rumors."

"Oh so that's what they're calling it nowadays." Blaine glared daggers at him and he _needed_ to get out of there. He shook his head. "I can't believe this."

"The door is that way," Urley said, nodding to the door. He looked down at his desk for a brief second and Blaine followed his gaze. Drawer.

Blaine turned around and made his way to the door, his hand trembled on the doorknob.

He swallowed and ripped the door open, fighting the urge to turn around and tell him to _please, do keep the photo_. He refrained simply because he was so repulsed, disgusted with anger that he could not stand the thought of looking at that man.

He shut the door behind him and walked down the hallway, down some stairs, not seeing anything but the air in front of him. He tried to wrap his head around the concept of being _fired_ for having done _nothing_ wrong but it was impossible.

Thoughts tumbled around in his head – _idiot idiot fucking idiot, how was am I supposed to tell my students, I should fight his sorry ass, after the end of the _term_, fuck fuck fuck, how am I supposed to find a job for next term, this can't be legal, how do I break the news to Kurt, this can't really be happening._

He stopped short right outside his office and tried to collect himself. He closed his eyes and took a deep erratic breath. He still had a whole day ahead of him and decided not to tell anyone until he had looked up the laws around the matter. He couldn't just stand idly by.

Of course he would have to tell Kurt. Tell Kurt that he would be unemployed, failing. That the gap was getting bigger.

Blaine ran his hands over his face and sighed deeply.

_Just get through the day._

* * *

><p><em><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE #2<br>**_Reason number two for taking a long time to write: The smut. I don't even know if you can call it that. It's damn hard (yeahyeahyeah oldest pun ever) to write with my poor overly analytical and emotional soul. Please tell me if it was awful. Hint: you were not supposed to laugh (which I always do when I read smut so I won't take it too harshly if you did anyway). I'll stop making excuses now and let you ravish the reviews. _**  
><strong>_


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for taking so long to update, I was hoping to have it done by Klaine's 4 months anniversary yesterday the 15th but Chris Colfer's Emmy nomination kind of got in the way of that, so it's all good! Someone asked me a couple of chapters back if this was based on a song, and while it wasn't that song, the title comes from the song _Candles_, which you might be familiar with. Although they sing One day, and not Someday, but I had named the document "someday this klaine fanfic will have an awesome name" and it just kind of stuck. Extremely interesting information. Enjoy the angst.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 4<em>

Kurt and Blaine had never kept secrets from each other. They were both brutally honest by nature and that had been the foundation of their relationship from day one. Never intentionally had Blaine kept something from Kurt, not unless he kept it from himself. And also, when you live together and practically on top of each other (by choice or otherwise) like they had the first years, it was impossible to have secrets.

Some things change. But Blaine never thought this would be one of those things.

So that day when he got home he had every intention to tell Kurt about this madness and take it from there. Bad news was never fun to give but they had gone through setbacks before. Surely this couldn't be that different.

But this was a Wednesday and that meant that by the time Blaine stepped in through the door Kurt had already had one performance and was scheduled for another one at eight so he was napping on the couch.

Blaine stopped by the coffee table for a moment to watch Kurt sleep. It was one of those things that Blaine never would tire of examining. He looked relaxed yet concentrated with his mouth closed and eyelids smooth. Blaine straightened out the quilt over Kurt's legs and Kurt stirred.

"Blaine?" Kurt said without opening his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you," Blaine said and squeezed his ankle apologetically. Kurt's leg twitched.

"Ah!" he shouted. "You know I'm ticklish."

"Sorry," Blaine said again but watched the little line beside Kurt's mouth become more prominent. His eyes were still closed.

"You better –" Kurt's warning was disrupted by his shriek as Blaine attacked his calf, poking hard. "Stop, stop!"

Kurt scrambled up in a sitting position and tried to pull his legs out of Blaine's reach. But he was laughing so Blaine stepped to the back of the sofa and grabbed the horrifying spot right above Kurt's knees, squeezing up his thighs. Kurt continued to protest between his laughter and withered underneath Blaine's hands. He finally got hold of Blaine's wrists to fight him off and Blaine let him. Kurt tried to give him the glare of Death but its effect was ruined by his smile.

"Now what kind of awakening was that?" Kurt said and let go of Blaine's arms and relaxed against the armrest. Blaine was smiling and hung over the back of the sofa, arms crossed over his chest for support.

"Technically you were already awake," Blaine said and leaned in to kiss him on the mouth, his nose bumping into Kurt's cheek.

Kurt smiled up at him when he drew back and Blaine waited one second too long to open his mouth to say 'I need to talk to you about something'.

"I booked a ticked for you to the show on Friday," Kurt said and Blaine's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's fine right? You said you wanted to come see it this week and I figured Friday is the kind of day when one might fancy a trip to the theatre!"

"Yes, Friday's great," Blaine said and Kurt nodded before standing up and stretching his arms out.

"It's like five thirty, right?" he asked Blaine who confirmed and watched as Kurt headed to the bathroom, scratching his shoulder.

Blaine remained by the couch as Kurt splashed water in his face and hummed while he chose a moisturizer. Blaine looked down at his hands that were fidgeting with edge of a cushion.

"Kurt?" he said and noted that his heart was pumping a little heavier.

"Yes, Blaine?" Kurt said, mocking and sweet. He turned back into the living room and was rubbing in the spots of lotion on his face. There was something about Kurt's presence right there, his vibrant _Kurtness_ even though he was just standing there, looking at Blaine slightly amused with his fingertips massaging his skin in upwards circles.

Blaine swallowed and decided just to let the words roll from his tongue.

"Do you want some coffee?" was what came out, and Blaine was surprised, because that was not what he had planned to say at all.

"Of course I do," Kurt said and widened his eyes as if Blaine was crazy for even asking. He smiled a second later and rubbed his hands together, smearing the remains of the lotion in a swift manner.

Blaine stood still a little too long, looking down a little too low and holding onto the cushion a little too hard. It wasn't a conscious decision but he was waiting for Kurt to ask what was wrong, waiting for permission to ruin this moment.

But Kurt had turned around again, switching off the light in the bathroom and Blaine snapped out of his frozen state and went to make coffee.

* * *

><p>Telling Kurt things had never been a problem, because he knew he would be heard and taken seriously, no matter how small or big the problem might be. But Kurt also had the ability to sense when something was wrong and pull the answer out of Blaine without much effort. Because Blaine never wanted to keep anything from him, but sometimes it was necessary to get a piercing look and a "no, you're not fine, you look like someone burnt your Dalton blazer and smudged the ashes over the crème colored walls as a constant reminder of your lost youth. Now tell me what's really going on."<p>

A single look would have qualified really.

Of course Blaine can't _blame_ Kurt for not asking him if perhaps, possibly he got fired today. Blaine knows that it's his responsibility, and his responsibility alone, to tell his partner things like this. Of course it is, and it's kind of vital information which should be passed along in form of a rant about idiot bosses and concern about the school system. They would then proceed to discuss his options while gritting their teeth at the world's lack of intelligence and by the end it would feel a little better, because at least Blaine had Kurt to share the pain with.

But Kurt's ignorance was a reminder of that none of that might actually happen. These days, things could go either way.

So Blaine desperately reasoned with himself, made excuses like you do when you know you're doing the wrong thing but convince yourself that it's right.

Blaine blamed it on the stupidity of the situation – so absurd that it was starting to sound untrue.

He promised that he would look more into it, talk to someone who knows about these things, before jumping to any conclusions and get fired up (although it was a bit late for that). It might not actually be true.

He claimed that he didn't want Kurt to worry, and while that was true what he actually feared was what would come out of that worry. Wouldn't this just be another thing that separated them – the Broadway star and the _unemployed_ teacher. It was a lousy thing to think and Blaine was not the kind of man who put value in status and wealth, but it was different when it came to yourself and etched FAILURE into your mind.

Blaine had never been afraid to show himself "weak" in front of Kurt. It was part of the honesty package and in the of the day their vulnerability had always made them stronger. But that was before Kurt refused to talk about anything more serious than the phone bill. Everything personal and emotional and _real_ was tucked away and frankly, it freaked Blaine out.

Losing his job and passion and income were all those things and if you drew this to the extreme, the nightmare scenario Blaine pictured in the back of his mind was that Kurt's eyes would go blanker and blanker until they saw nothing but the failure that Blaine felt he had become.

And then he would leave.

* * *

><p>Thursday and Friday followed, and it was two of the most uncomfortable days of Blaine's life. He felt like a liar and was almost grateful that Kurt had left early when he got home on the Thursday. Yet, the idea that the news would ruin them and if he could fix it it wouldn't, had become truth. Almost a mantra.<p>

But he did tell Fiona. It was a bit of a comfort to see her jaw drop and curse Urley in all the ways that Blaine had and then some. She even suggested a strike but Blaine laughed it off – he did not want any attention around this.

Blaine had been a bit hesitant about telling her, mainly because he was afraid that she would find out that he hadn't told Kurt and what she'd make of that. But since they were colleagues he'd figured that there really was no way around it. And it was nice to get it off his chest.

She didn't ask about Kurt, although she squinted and pouted thoughtfully when he had tried to answer what he was going to do next but was at a complete loss for a moment. Fiona probably noted that usually Blaine would have at least mentioned _something_ about Kurt or his reaction or how this would effect them by now. Instead he muttered that he guessed he would teach from home again.

Fiona has steered clear of the subject of Kurt ever since the abrupt ending of their dinner a couple of weeks ago. She had been strangely tactful and Blaine hadn't even caught her biting her lip to refrain from saying something. Even if Blaine appreciated the fact that she didn't jump at the chance to criticize his relationship, it was a bit unsettling because where she'd usually chime in with a sarcastic remark, she just remained quiet. Blaine frowned at the thought. It seemed like everyone were backing off. Maybe he was too.

He looked up the laws revolving firing of teachers and they basically said that as long as they had a valid reason, they could let you go at any time. He called up a friend that was a lawyer and he promised to look into it but also told him not to get his hopes up – a man in Urley's position was not someone that you wanted to fight if he decided to get rid of you.

So yes, Blaine had had a bad couple of days, but he was looking forward a night on Broadway.

Kurt had left him the ticket on the kitchen table, along with a note that read:

"_Picked up the ticket for you so you'll have more time to buy me flowers. I'll meet you at the stage door afterwards. Love you. Kurt_"

Blaine pocketed the ticket and the corners of his mouth twitched a little. Tonight he would try to put his troubles aside and just enjoy watching Kurt in his right element.

* * *

><p>Blaine sat in the theatre and observed the surroundings. It was quite a small venue but the mood was nevertheless enthusiastic and it was a proud moment, looking around at all those people and knowing that Kurt would captivate them all.<p>

It was different going to the theatre alone. Kurt had asked if he wanted to bring anyone but Blaine hadn't. He needed this moment to think and feel without disturbance. Just be able to disappear into another world for a while, in a crowd where no one knew him.

Blaine looked at the couples hoovering over the _Playbill_, the woman who had ripped his ticket and now was telling people in the second row that they had to put away their cameras, the giant group of loud british tourists and the all kinds of people that were squinting at their tickets. When you're alone in that kind of public place you do feel a bit alienated. Not necessarily in a bad way, but you take the time to think about the way people act around each other and ponder upon where they came from and who they are.

There were plenty of pairs there, Blaine noted. They all looked happy. Some more excited then others. Maybe they had just started dating and found and easygoing musical the right thing to bond over. Maybe it was just an excuse to spend more time together.

Blaine's eyes lingered on the couple two rows in front of him. They looked familiar. He couldn't hear what they were saying and he only saw the back of their heads and half profiles. Blaine frowned and looked closer. Their shoulder were touching and they were obviously very comfortable with each other, exchanging few words but smiling knowingly. The woman leaned a bit closer and whispered something in the man's ear, her eyes expressive and eyebrows dancing. The man threw his head back and laughed warmly and she bowed her head and smirked. Blaine smiled and looked to both his sides before remembering that Kurt wasn't with him. Then he realized that he actually didn't recognize those two people at all, it was just the way they acted as a couple that had reminded him of him and Kurt.

Blaine looked up at the ceiling, suddenly feeling nosey when the thought "I wonder what kind of problems they have" came to him. It was hard to imagine that they would have any problems since they looked like a match made in heaven. Blaine didn't know whether to feel warm or cynical at the memory of the countless people that had told that to him and Kurt over the years.

He sighed and tried to go for warm and fuzzy but only got to longing. He shifted in his seat and stared at the curtain, listening to the buzz and feeling like the only thinking person in the room.

Soon enough the lights dimmed and voices were reduced to whispers. Blaine sat up a bit straighter and felt his heart pound a little harder, glancing around at the turning heads the seconds before Kurt's unmistakable voice filled the theatre. Clear and high and beautiful.

The curtain went up slowly, in the same pace as the puttering music, reveling the backside of Kurt's shining boots, his legs that disappeared under a thigh-long knitted cardigan and finally his head that was swaying from side to side.

He started walking towards the back of the stage, singing about how he could tell a story that would last them a lifetime, about _girls gone missing and strange things like that_. The music abruptly stopped when he raised a hand and turned his head. His eyes roamed over the audience, and he turned around slowly, filling the silence with his immense presence. He walked to the front, heels clicking. He snapped his fingers three times, smirking and raising an eyebrow. Where the fourth snap would have been the music started again with a bang and he took spun around, landing on the beat and refused to share the story.

Blaine let out a breath that he didn't know that he'd been holding as the number escalated and the seven membered cast joined Kurt one by one, trying to convince him to tell their stories. They were supposed to be like memories, ghosts if you will, and Kurt played the tortured soul of Elliot Pierce. It was a decent musical and Blaine had seen it before but this time he was really taken aback.

Watching Kurt on stage had always been a pleasure, and sometimes an emotional roller coaster. The first time that Blaine had seen him perform, when auditioning for a solo at sectionals with _Don't cry for me Argentina_, he had not only been struck by Kurt's natural talent and charisma but also the soul and sincerity that he put into his performance. He had been too outstanding to get the solo, and Blaine had had to tell him not to try so hard. But Kurt was a true star, and he deserved to shine just as bright as he wanted to.

Performance was perhaps not the word for it – it was such a natural environment for him. Kurt _breathed_ expression. Blaine had noticed that the first time he laid eyes on him on that staircase, trying to blend in but failing miserably with his searching eyes and then, slight bewilderment and smiles that brightened up the entire room. Hearing him sing was just another step on the path of realization of that what Blaine was feeling was nothing short of love.

Sitting in that audience and seeing and hearing Kurt just as real and splendid as ever, brought back the same feeling of revelation. Of course, it wasn't really an eureka kind of moment since Blaine was very much aware of the fact that he was in love. But what he realized was that what struck him was the same wave of emotions that rolled over him and they had nothing to do with discovering anything – it was just the sensation of falling in love that was so strong that it couldn't be ignored.

Kurt came to life on that stage, exuberant and vivid. Even though he was playing a character that was quite different from him, Blaine saw Kurt in every move, all the different aspects of his person. Elliot Pierce was an angry character, bitter and sarcastic, and Blaine thought to himself that it was no wonder that Kurt was exhausted when he poured his entire being into making him come alive.

Seeing Kurt, or his character, give in to such strong emotions was strange. Because Blaine hadn't had access to that part of Kurt for some time now and yet there it was, but directed at something else entirely. Fiction.

And Blaine had all kinds of conflicting emotions. While he was incredibly proud and could barely take his eyes off Kurt, there was a too familiar nagging sensation creeping up from the darker parts of his mind. And that feeling only grew stronger during intermission. He felt lonely next to the enthusiastic groups of people by the bar and there was something puzzling with his reflection in the men's room. He washed his hands and went back to his seat, waiting for the bell to ring.

It gave him the unwanted time to think of where he was in life right now. Which was almost alone in an auditorium, hiding from the chatter of the happy people outside, praising his boyfriend – the upcoming star. And he sat there with his secret, waiting for Kurt's success and his own downfall. It hurt a little to know that what used to be his own dream, to be on stage and reach out to people, was so close through Kurt but further away from himself than ever. When had things gotten so complicated?

* * *

><p>Blaine sat through the second half with a lump in his throat that he wished he had a different reason for. Yet he didn't really want it to end. Partly because it felt like a privilege to have an excuse to just sit and watch the most beautiful man he knew. Partly because he didn't know how he would be able to face Kurt afterwards without ruining the evening. He felt like such a mess.<p>

During the bows Kurt got a standing ovation and Blaine forgot to feel bad for a moment when he saw the livid smile on Kurt's face. It was just a regular Friday night and Blaine guessed that they didn't get that kind of reception every day. A lady came out with Blaine's bouquet of roses and mimosa and Kurt squinted into the audience but didn't catch Blaine's eye.

The curtain fell and people started leaving, one experience richer than when they came. Blaine gathered his coat and scarf and made his way out on the street and looked into the stage door. The same woman that had taken care of the flowers sat behind the desk and buzzed the door open.

"Thank you," Blaine said and she smiled.

"Mr Hummel will be down in a minute, he said he'd hurry," she said and returned to writing on the computer.

"Okay, great." Blaine nodded and had barely read through the first review that hung on the wall before the door into the theatre opened and Kurt stuck in his head.

"Hi," he said and held up the door wider, waving Blaine in.

"Hi, you were amazing!" Blaine and followed him through the door, stealing a kiss in the cheek. Kurt smiled at him.

"You think so? The audience was spectacular today, so much energy," Kurt said and walked down a staircase. He grabbed Blaine's hand. "And thank you for the flowers."

It felt a little better then. This was just him coming to Kurt's job, and it had nothing to do with his own career. He was just there to show his support.

"Really, Kurt, you were incredible," he said and wished he could pour all his affection into on look. "You are born to be on stage and every single person in that audience thought the same thing. Gosh, you've come so far and I am so proud of you," Blaine said, and he really meant it. Kurt glanced over at him and looked a little surprised, but happy. They walked into another hallway.

"You've seen the show before," he said and Blaine bowed his head down.

"Yes but this was..." Blaine shrugged and looked back at him. "It just hit me hard this time." He tried to smile without showing any other emotion than lovingness. It wasn't very hard when Kurt looked at him like that.

"It strikes me too sometimes. That my dream has come true. It's all I've ever wanted." Kurt stopped outside a door next to a rolling rack of costumes. "I wish you could be in the audience every night, gives me a real kick in the butt."

Blaine laughed and Kurt winked at him and pushed the door to the dressing room open. They were greeted by a half naked Marcel who was very keen on hugging Blaine and declaring his love for tonight's audience.

"Fucking livid, man! This is why we keep going, that energy, wow, you just can't shake it!"

Blaine smiled and complimented his performance. From behind a screen another cast member, Tom, greeted him.

"Hey Blaine, enjoyed the show?" he said, peeking over the screen.

"Yeah, it was great. You were all really good. It's an excellent production," Blaine said and beamed at them.

"I think this calls for some celebration," Marcel said and scrubbed his face with a wet wipe. Blaine caught Kurt's quick disapproving frown in the mirror where he was removing remainders of eye liner with a q-tip. Clearly he did not approve of Marcel's skin routine.

"What do you say, Blaine, you wanna go out?" Kurt asked and looked at him through the mirror.

Honestly, that was about the last thing that Blaine wanted right now. Even though it might be nice to get a bit drunk and forget for a while, he knew better than that. And he did not feel very celebratory or socially enjoyable. This must have read on his face because Kurt declined the offer.

"As jolly as that would be, I think we'll call it a night. Saturday tomorrow," he said and stood up to change into his own clothes. Marcel shrugged.

"Your loss, man." He smirked at Blaine. "Tho, I'm sure you'll have your own celebration."

"Marcel, you have a filthy, filthy mind," Kurt said and shook his head sadly.

"I'm sure we'll think of something," Blaine said. Marcel laughed and then started talking to Tom about the idiocy of that the director wouldn't let him cut his hair.

"Blaine, I think I'll just have a quick shower. I'll only be a minute," Kurt said and picked up a towel from his chair. "Really. I won't wash my hair. Well, no conditioner anyway."

Blaine nodded and sat down to wait, taking interest in Kurt's make up table. It was neatly organized with bottles of lotion, powder and makeup, brushes, hair products and a stack of fashion magazines. The mirror was bordered with photos of friends and family. Blaine looked closer. In the bottom right corner was a close up picture of him and Kurt from last summer when they'd visited a friend's country house. Blaine recalled that they'd had wonderful dinner outside and enjoyed the company and it's had been a beautiful, warm summer night. They'd been truly happy and it translated well through the photography. Blaine gave it one last longing glance before his eyes landed on something even more distant – their prom photo. Blaine let out a startled snicker and peeled it off the mirror.

Kurt had is arm around Blaine and his shoulder hitched up in an awkward angle. Blaine remembered that evening clearly, and sound of silence as Kurt was announced prom queen. He inspected the picture – they were smiling so grandly, even if it wasn't with the same comfort and relaxation as in the previous photo, it was genuine. That had been the night when they both could have fled but decided to rise above it all. Blaine had known that he loved him then, when he refused to run and said with such determinacy "They can't touch us, or what we have", and that he would do whatever it took to support him and be strong in return. And then they had danced, because what else was there to do?

They looked so young. Almost ten years. Blaine shook his head and looked at the backside. _My Prince_ _2011_ was written in the corner and Blaine smiled at teenage Kurt's Disney inspired view on romance. Blaine looked up as Kurt emerged from the showers, toweling his hair and pulling on his pants in a rapid pace.

"What are you looking at?" he asked as he saw the photo in Blaine's hand. He walked over to Blaine as he buttoned his shirt and Blaine grinned up at him. "Oh that! I found it in box last time I visited dad and Carol. I quite fancy myself in a crown."

He squeezed Blaine shoulder and went to stand under the vintage looking hair dryer. Blaine put the photo back on the mirror and looked around the room. The other tables were not half as well-equipped as Kurt's.

"Do you do your own make up?" Blaine asked as soon as Kurt was done drying.

"Well, not really. We have a make up artist. I just... like to be prepared. No one understands my complexion the way I do," Kurt said, slipping into his shoes and coat and Blaine was quite sure Kurt meant that the make up artist was completely incompetent and did the basics himself. "Okay, I'm done!"

"That _was_ fast," Blaine said and stood up to say say good bye to Marcel and Tom, who were in a heated discussion about the age of an actor that Blaine had never heard of.

"Bye guys, see you tomorrow," Kurt said and kissed them both on the cheek. "And I'll have go with Tom on this one, he's gotta be at least 35."

"What! No man, that's what he _wants_ you to think... Nice seeing you, Blaine," he called out as Blaine waved at them and followed Kurt out the door.

"I'm just gonna say something to Beth. You can wait here if you want," Kurt said and disappeared behind the opposite door before Blaine could answer.

Blaine sighed and inhaled the smell of theatre. So this was Kurt's second home. Blaine hadn't been in his dressing room before, he'd waited in a restaurant nearby. Seeing it like this made it all a little clearer. He could imagine Kurt running down the hallway between costume changes, or reading a magazine while getting his hair done, or warming up before the show, or lying on the couch, talking and laughing with his fellow cast members during intermission. Maybe sometimes he would look at the photos on the mirror and miss Blaine, but somehow that mental image didn't quite add up.

The door opened again and Kurt backed out, laughing and waving his good byes.

"Okay, _now_ I'm done!" he turned around and said once the door closed, quirking his head in motion down the hallway.

"Great, let's go home," Blaine said and Kurt nodded before they started walking.

"Beth says hi by the way. And the rest of the girls as well," Kurt said as Blaine pulled the door to the reception desk open. "Good night, Mrs Watson!"

"Good night Mr Hummel," she said, smiling to Blaine.

Kurt jumped out on the street and literally spun on his heel to turn in the right direction.

"You're in a good mood," Blaine said, amused.

"Well," Kurt started, linking their arms together, "we just had one of our best shows to date, you were there to see it and inspire me, and now I finally got something to put in that vase I bought last week!" He wiggled the bouquet in front of his nose.

"I inspire you?" Blaine asked and Kurt frowned at him.

"Of course you do," he said. "Knowing you're in the audience makes me want to give even more. I actually _care_ about your opinion. Not that I don't give a damn at all other performances, I always do my best, but you know. It's special."

"I guess I know what you mean," Blaine said thoughtfully. "I used to get so nervous whenever my family would come and watch me sing."

"I remember, I was there. That one time." Kurt said and smiled knowingly. This was not a subject that Blaine wanted to dig much further into.

"It's nice to see you smile and laugh," he said instead, stopping for a red light.

"Don't I usually?" Kurt said and raised his eyebrows in mock insult with just a twinge of seriousness. "I think we can cross."

"It's been a while since I've seen you this happy, that's all," Blaine tried to explain while sounding as lighthearted as possible.

"Says Mr Sunshine himself," Kurt said and rolled his eyes, stopping to hail a cab. Blaine had no intention of getting into an argument, _this_ argument, in a taxi, so he didn't say anything as he climbed in after Kurt.

"I'm really glad that I got to see you tonight," he said after a couple of blocks. "In your right element. You have no idea how incredible you are up there."

Blaine heard the sorrow in his own voice and Kurt smiled at his words but it faded quickly when he looked at him.

"What's going on, Blaine?" he asked and there was his opening. Kurt recognized that something was wrong and wanted to know. But Blaine was put on the spot. He opened his mouth but no coherent sound came out.

"Nothing!" he outburst, attempting to smile but it only gave him away. Kurt's head fell back heavily on the headrest, exhaling loudly.

"Blaine, don't give me that. You've been acting weird for days now. You don't think I notice?" he said, suddenly tired. Blaine gave up.

"I don't know, do you? Because it's a bit hard to tell, since you don't talk to me anymore," he snapped and could not be bothered by the driver's curious glance or that this was supposed to be a nice cheerful evening. Game over.

"What does that mean? When exactly am I supposed to talk with you? Should I call you at work or better yet, from stage!" Kurt exclaimed and Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous, I –"

"Oh, Blaine, please do tell how I am supposed to be then," Kurt interrupted and fixed Blaine with an ice cold look. "You're the one has been acting like a stranger these past days. And tonight, at the theatre, you hardly said a word. I just... I don't understand you right now."

Blaine blinked. Was he really that obvious? But no, this was not fair. Kurt could not be the one accusing him of being introvert.

"Kurt, you've shut me out of _weeks_, walking away in the middle of discussions – _don't deny it_ – but I can't bring it up because I hardly see you and have to pretend like everything's fine because otherwise it would just be work, fight with Kurt, spending evening alone and that's not what I want. But I don't want this either!"

"Oh, so that's what it all come down then, is it?" Kurt said. "You're too fucking noble to set me straight, and I am the workaholic diva."

"That's not what I –"

"But it's what you meant! I think you're just –"

The cab stopped with a squeak and Kurt broke his eye contact with Blaine and Blaine looked out the window. They were outside their building. Kurt pulled out his wallet and had the door open before the driver had turned around. Blaine braced himself for half a second before getting out himself and slamming the car door shut.

"You think I'm just what?" Blaine asked, genuinely curious and genuinely terrified of the answer. Kurt was already on the sidewalk, two steps ahead of him. But he stopped and so did Blaine, standing between two parked cars.

"I think you're jealous, Blaine," Kurt said, still with his back to him. Still with steel in his voice. He turned around when seconds passed and Blaine didn't answer, because Blaine couldn't answer. "It's the only reasonable explanation I can think of! You obviously doesn't like me going out after shows, you can barely say two words to my cast members, you compliment me like you're apologizing and you're _obsessed_ with blaming our problems on my job."

Blaine stared at him and had a hundred thoughts rushing through his head, all of which just resulting in heavy breathing. Kurt's voice softened.

"I know you, Blaine. I know what your dreams were and I've seen you give a lot up and I understand if that's haunting you. But this is my dream and I shouldn't have to fight so hard not to feel guilty for living it."

Something burst in Blaine at that, but he couldn't deal with that right now. Instead he shouted.

"No, Kurt, you shouldn't feel guilty about making your dreams come true, you should feel guilty about thinking, for a second, that I would want to deny you that in any way! How can you even..." Blaine shook his head at his feet before trying again. Kurt watched him seriously. "Haven't I always supported you? I held your hand and watched all of those Judy Garland movies through all of those rejections and I encouraged you to keep going because I knew that someday you would get the recognition you deserve, because god, Kurt, you've always been a star to me! And no one was happier and prouder than me when all this finally happened. All I could ever wish for is for you to be happy. If you don't know that..."

Blaine trailed off and threw his hands up and then let them fall to his sides, as if there was nothing more to say. Kurt looked a little shocked at this outburst of aggravation and affection and for a moment they both probably forgot what this really was about.

"Of course I know that, Blaine," Kurt said and sighed. "But that still doesn't explain why you're so upset."

"I'm upset because I miss you!" Blaine said loudly, letting the words cling out and bounce between the buildings. At least it was half of the truth. "Not only when you're working, but when you're at home as well! And that's the worst part of it all. Sometimes I will look at you, and not really know who I see – you disappear and shut me out and walk away, even if it's just to the next room! As soon as we have an argument you go blank and I don't know what the fuck to make of it. It scares the hell out of me that maybe you're shutting me out of your life, one part at a time, and I feel completely powerless!"

Not once had he looked away from Kurt, but now Kurt broke away and glanced down. If Blaine hadn't been so upset he would have thought about how the light from the streetlamp hit Kurt's face and made the angles soft and sharp at once, a blend of hard light and shadows. But all he could think about was the sinking sensation in his gut as Kurt looked down the street before returning to Blaine. He was doing it again, and perhaps it wasn't even a conscious decision. Kurt stepped down from the sidewalk and stood five feet away from Blaine.

"I know that things haven't exactly been... running as smoothly between us as they usually do. Obviously. But all I know is that it wasn't like this before _Octagon,_ and we both knew that it would mean that our time together would be more limited. Let me finish!" Blaine pressed his lips together and nodded. "Maybe I have been neglecting you, and in that case I'm sorry. I really am." He searched for Blaine's eyes. "But you're the one has been turning away from all this. Maybe the reason to why you don't see me the same way is because you're not looking at me the same way. I haven't changed, Blaine." Kurt smiled quickly and as he shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. "And I would never try to push you away because I love you too damn much."

He seemed sincere. And maybe it was as simple as that. Maybe it was just the stress of the new routines and some miscommunications that had caused all this. Maybe it wasn't as real or troublesome as Blaine had made it out to be. Right then and there, Blaine would gladly have believed that. They would have settled at that and gone upstair and Blaine would have woken up in the morning with an unfailing determination to prove Kurt right. But Blaine was tired of being naïve.

"You're doing it again," he said quietly, because it wasn't easy to go down that road when he could refuse.

"What?"

"You're refusing to see the real problem, you're promising that things will get better but you don't say how and it's all excuses to walk away!" Blaine saw irritation creeping back over Kurt's body and he felt strangely empowered.

"I don't _know_ what the real problem is, Blaine, so all I can do is assure you that I'm still here, although you don't seem to believe me. And yes, I would very much like to walk away because it's freezing out here and I'm pretty sure someone is going to throw something at us from a balcony soon and I need to put these flowers in water."

And with that Blaine was lost again. He rubbed his temple and snorted.

"Fine, let's go up."

* * *

><p>That night they both lay awake for hours. There were too many reasons to why Blaine couldn't sleep.<p>

He thought about Kurt's words about him being jealous. As much as he would deny that, he couldn't deny the fact that Kurt had something that he didn't and while he didn't want to take that away from Kurt, he was sad that he couldn't have it too.

He thought about Kurt's reactions and unwillingness to understand. And he wondered what Kurt was thinking about, if there was something else holding him back from truly confronting him. But he couldn't bring himself to ask, even if it was ridiculous to lie in the dark and hearing the other person's breathing normally. But the darkness worked as a divider, separating them with a foot bodily and a mile emotionally.

Blaine's aching anxiety of perhaps not having a job at all was nothing compared to the awful feeling of guilt at not having told Kurt. Because Kurt had been right, Blaine had been acting weird but Blaine had put the blame elsewhere. When truth was, he was probably just as much to blame as Kurt, if not more. That's what he thought, and he felt awful.

So there they were, like two strangers sharing a bed, trying not to stir and give themselves away. Afraid of conflict and afraid of tomorrow. Blaine tried not to think of that they were becoming afraid of each other because that scared him more than anything else.

* * *

><p>Hope this chapter wasn't too boring - honestly I'm a bit sick of the lack of progress myself, enters word orgy. These boys really need to shape up, jeez.<br>Your reviews mean the world to me so thank you very much! I'd also love it if you'd come talk to me on Tumblr (my username is namone - linking doesn't work argh) which is basically what distracts me from writing. Although I like to see it as... inspiration gathering...


	5. Chapter 5

Oh gosh, I'm leaving my computer until Saturday to go away (bringing plenty of paper though!) and I really wanted to update before going so I just wrote like three pages in the last couple of hours. It was intense. But listening to Mumford & Sons on repeat helped_. _There is a song in this chapter, _We might as well be strangers_ by Keane (oh my god, Keane again, I haven't even listened to Keane before?)_. _I advice you to search on youtube for the acoustic version and play it when it comes to that part!

And as I always feel the need to comment on the real world - looks like season 3 is gonna be good to Klaine! Well, there's gonna be Klaine so of course it'll be good. Will anyone be surprised if I said that I'm hoping for some trouble? Just a reasonable amount though... Looks like they'll have enough trouble in the future as it is.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 5<em>

At some point Blaine must have fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes it was light. He was still tired, but his body was aching from staying in one position too long. He sat up and looked to his left. He was alone.

Before he clearly remembered the details of last night, he only had the heavy feeling in his chest to go on and panicked a little and thought that Kurt had left, for real. When he came to his senses he didn't feel all that relieved, more scared of the prospect of sometime waking up alone as in alone.

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," came Kurt's voice from the door. Blaine looked up and tried to define this moment. Kurt was in his black kimono, looking almost as tired as Blaine felt but smiling, almost shyly. It was better than nothing. It was better than most things actually, but it had an awkward nostalgic feeling to it.

"Good morning," Blaine answered, his throat dry as sandpaper. "What time is it?"

"A bit past eleven. I woke up just a little while ago. Thank goodness otherwise today's dose of vitamin D would have been sorely missed!" Kurt said lightly, twirling the sash of the kimono around his fingers. Blaine smiled faintly. "I thought I'd make pancakes for breakfast, sound good?"

"Like you even have to ask..." Blaine said and Kurt shook his head.

"That's what I thought!" he said and headed to the kitchen.

Blaine stayed put for a couple of minutes, just listening to the sound of Kurt rummaging the kitchen, looking through bowls and pans, cracking eggs and stirring the batter. It was the sound of everything that was right in the world – perfect picture of peace and quiet and home and safe.

Blaine remembered one of the first time they'd spent the night together alone and in the morning they'd had the kitchen to themselves and Kurt had promised him his "notorious pancakes". Blaine had just sat on the counter and been refused to help, other that to move his legs when Kurt needed something from the cabinet underneath him. The first pancake had been burnt because Blaine blocked the drawer when Kurt needed the spatula and then they'd been caught up in kissing. When they'd sat down to eat Kurt had warned him not to get used to this every morning because 1) the amount of unhealthiness was obscene and 2) he was not to be considered a 1950s housewife, thank you very much. Blaine had laughed and assured him that he would never take the pancakes for granted. Food had never tasted as good as that morning, spiced with love and prospects.

Blaine almost ran out in the kitchen after this recollection, needing to prove that all that still was true. The butter sizzled in the frying pan and Kurt poured a calculated amount of batter over it, filling the kitchen with a delicious buttery scent. Blaine relaxed against the doorframe and tried to stay in the moment. Maybe this morning could be a sanctuary.

He sat down at the table and flipped through the newspaper without reading a word, trying not to think at all. He went to the bathroom and came back just as Kurt flipped a pancake in the air, landing flat in the pan.

"Whoa, I thought you stopped doing that!" Blaine said and Kurt turned around, shrugging.

"Only in the purpose of not encouraging you to drop food on the floor," he said and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you saying that you secretly throw pancakes in the air at all times?" Blaine said and leaned over the counter, frowning.

"Yes. You have unraveled my secret identity," Kurt said and nodded seriously. Blaine broke down and grinned, comforted by the fact that some things still could be easy. It was enough for the guilt to subdue for a while, making reality a little distant. Because this moment could have been any moment in their relationship, when it was just the two of them and no conflicting emotions, just mutual love.

"I'll set the table," Blaine said and grabbed forks and knives and focused on just having one more perfect morning, blatantly ignoring the fact that things were far from perfect.

He set down the strawberry jam on the table and then just watched as Kurt flipped over a pancake on the plate where a pile was growing.

"Who taught you how to make pancakes?" he asked because suddenly that seemed very important. Kurt looked up, a bit surprised.

"Mum used to make them on special occasions or whenever I would wake her up early and I loved being in the kitchen with her. Although she didn't really teach me, I was too young to go anywhere near that frying pan." He poured the last of the batter into the pan. "Then dad found the recipe, which apparently belonged to my _grandmother,_ when I was 13 and gave it to me. I think he just really wanted pancakes."

"Sounds legit," Blaine said and Kurt laughed.

"Yes, it does, doesn't it."

Blaine smiled at how Kurt always visibly softened when he spoke of his family, especially his father. Their outmost care and respect for one another had always moved Blaine, their dynamic was so different from his own family.

But why did Blaine feel like he needed to take notes on Kurt's loop-sided smile? Or how he tapped his fingers against the handle of the frying pan? Or how he wrinkled his nose when he got impatient?

Why did it feel like he was running out of time, and was collecting memories for the other side?

Blaine looked away from Kurt, as if the motion would delete that idea.

He knew that he couldn't postpone telling Kurt about his job for much longer. Keyword being much.

"About last night..." Kurt started when he put the pancakes on the table and sat down. Blaine looked at the perfect tower of pancakes and shook his head, clinging to the illusion that this was their happy place, even though he felt miserable.

"No, I know. I'm sorry, I've just had a rough week and was so tired," Blaine cut in and avoided Kurt's eyes by lifting a pancake onto his plate. Kurt's hesitation before he answered said _cut the crap, you couldn't sleep for three hours_.

"Well, I'm sorry too. I don't really think that you are jealous of me," he said instead. Blaine sliced a banana. "I know how you love you job and that you're really important to those kids. It wasn't fair of me to accuse you of being unsupportive or something like that because I know you're not."

Blaine had to look up then, even though he rather not look into those pleading eyes that felt like daggers but looked like heaven.

"Really, Blaine, I feel terrible about that. I guess this is all a bit confusing for both of us," Kurt continued and smiled a little. "I just... Sometimes I see something in your eyes, like there's something more you want, and I'm not sure I have anything to do with that."

Blaine's heart was thumping loudly. This was too close, dangerous territory. But wasn't that exactly what he had wanted? For Kurt to see through him until there was nothing left but the grainy details? Blaine looked down on his plate and smiled bitterly.

"But we don't have to talk about that right now," Kurt said and took a bite. "Let's just... enjoy the morning."

So that was settled then.

* * *

><p>"That was delicious," Blaine said and took a sip of coffee as Kurt put the syrup back in the refrigerator.<p>

"Yes, and I ate way too much. Good thing I have two shows today, sweat it right out," Kurt said and reached to pick up their plates. Blaine grabbed his wrist.

"Oh please, you could eat whatever you want, you look amazing," Blaine said and dragged Kurt closer.

"I think I just did. And thank you," Kurt said and Blaine pulled him down to sit on his lap. "Whoa, Blaine, what are you doing!"

Blaine didn't answer but wrapped his arm around his slim waist and rested his head on his shoulder. He inhaled deeply and traced the side of Kurt with one hand, resting at angle where hip meets leg. The silky fabric of the kimono was like water against his skin, fleeting. But Kurt had his arm over Blaine's shoulder and he was _right there_.

Blaine let the smell of Kurt fill his lungs and body and mind. He stretched his neck to sense his shampoo and Kurt shifted a little towards him, lifting a hand to Blaine's other shoulder to steady himself.

"Blaine, I have to go really soon," Kurt said but Blaine only held on tighter, lifting his head to kiss the nape of Kurt's neck. Kurt let out a small sound of protest that sounded more like a moan. He pressed his shoulder down and gave Blaine more access, turning his face into Blaine's hair. Blaine left his skin and his nose bumped into Kurt's jaw as he stretched up to his mouth. He felt Kurt's spine curving under his arm as hunched down, meeting Blaine's lips in perfect synchronization.

It was sweet and soft at first, Blaine sucked gently on Kurt's bottom lip and the angle was a bit uncomfortable. Then Kurt changed his position on Blaine's knee, scotching back and pushing his upper body forward, deepening the kiss and grasping the back of Blaine's neck. The kiss grew hungry and passionate, Blaine opening his mouth at the push of Kurt's tongue against his lip. He tasted like home. Blaine inhaled sharply through his nose, even though breathing felt secondary to Kurt's weight on top of his leg, torso and lips. Kurt dragged in a long, shallow breath, his mouth wet and soft.

Just as Blaine, almost subconsciously, moved his hand down Kurt's thigh, stopping at the knee and sliding in under the robe, back up against the smooth muscle, Kurt broke away and leaned his head against Blaine's forehead. Blaine didn't want it to end, he wanted to stay like this, with Kurt wanting him, and not caring that his leg felt a little numb. He kept his eyes closed, finding Kurt's lips again.

"I really, really, really need to go," Kurt whispered against Blaine's lips and Blaine forced his eyes open. Kurt was so close that he was a little blurry, but Blaine caught the expression in his eyes – heavy-lidded but serious. Blaine blinked and Kurt kissed him with eyes still open, looking down through his lashes and leaving Blaine's lips slightly pouty and parted when he drew away. He smiled sweetly and apologetically and licked his lips before standing up and looking at the clock.

"Oh _shit_, I'm supposed to be in make-up in half an hour and I haven't even decided what to wear!" he exclaimed while leaving the kitchen and striding to the extra wardrobe they'd had installed in the living room (also known as Kurt's wardrobe). Blaine chuckled and sighed at the same time. Moment over.

* * *

><p>After Kurt the Hurricane had left the apartment Blaine loaded the dishwasher, took a shower and got dressed. Then he made the bed and was left standing on Kurt's side and having no idea what to do next. He turned around to escape the memory of lying awake last night and then the memories of being awake for all the right reasons, the quilt too smooth and sheets too untangled. He looked out the window and down on the street. It was another grey day, some umbrellas twirling up against an occasional raindrop. Blaine followed the path of a young woman who walked with such determination and pace that it came a surprise when she stopped at the red light. Blaine watched all the people she hurried past, keeping her head bowed and face forward. They were all strangers to her, not gracing them with a second glance or a glance at all. No words spilled or secrets told, just pushing past, heading elsewhere. Away.<p>

Blaine snorted at this dramatic over-analysis, turning into the room again and casting a last look at the bed, biting his lip as he walked out of the room with a sudden idea of destination.

He sat down at the piano, the lid squeaked a little as he opened it. It was funny, before he'd always turned to music when he was upset in any way. It had been his comfort, a safe haven where his emotions could run freely with being patronized or diminished. It was a place to forget. But he'd let that slip more and more as music became part of his job, not playing for himself but for others. He'd let himself forget that it could be more than technique and performance.

Blaine's fingers moved over the keys, playing bits and pieces from different songs at the top of his head. It was pleasant to feel in control of the sound, but there was no meaning behind it, he could play the piano in his sleep.

He stopped abruptly and just sat and stared for a moment, hands still on the keyboard. He took a deep breath and tries to remember the chords. Once he started playing it came easily, words rolling of his tongue.

"_I don't know your face no more  
>Or feel the touch that I adore"<em>

Blaine closed his eyes and only felt the weight of the piano under his fingers.

"_I don't know your face no more  
>It's just a place I'm looking for"<em>

Kurt laughing, Kurt's lying beside him looking up at the ceiling, Kurt in ecstasy, Kurt smiling like he means it.

"_We might as well be strangers in a another town  
>We might as well be living in a different world<br>We might as well..."_

Blaine bit of the words, they were so bitter. But the melody came out clear, like he had no other choice but to sing it like the truth.

"_I don't know your thoughts these days  
>We're a strangers in an empty space"<em>

Kurt looking down, turning away. Being beside him but thoughts a million miles away.

"_I don't understand your heart  
>It's easier to be apart"<em>

Blaine slumped over the piano, voice almost cracking but he had to keep going, get through this.

"_We might as well be strangers in another town  
>We might as well be living in another time<br>We might as well  
>We might as well<br>We might as well be strangers"_

Blaine pounded on the keys of the piano like they could absorb all the pain, filling the apartment with the song and hoping it would find the door.

"_Be strangers  
>For all I know of you now"<em>

The dynamic changed and he wanted to play as soft as possible, almost whispering. He wanted to take it all back, but he couldn't.

"_For all I know of you now"_

He wanted to say all the things he hadn't been able to and he wanted Kurt to understand.

"_For all I know of you now"_

He wanted Kurt to look at him like he always had when everything had changed – like nothing had changed.

"_For all I know."_

He stayed absolutely dead still after the last note ended, keeping his eyes closed and just breathing heavily. He didn't know for how long he sat there, just existing in his mind. It came to a point where his body started to feel foreign and stiff, like a shell he'd left behind.

He opened his eyes then, and they were strangely dry. He clenched his jaw together, a dull ache in his head. He slammed the piano lid shut and stood up, frustrated with his inability to get away. He needed some distraction.

Blaine went into the kitchen and drank two glasses of water, forcing down the last drop. Then he found his phone on the counter and called up Fiona.

"Hi, it's Blaine. You wanna come over for dinner tonight?"

* * *

><p>Blaine met Kurt in the elevator. He was going out to buy groceries and hadn't payed attention to what time it was. He pushed the door open and kaboom, there he was, leaning against the umbrella and biting his lip. His eyes went wide when he saw Blaine and then he smiled.<p>

"Hi! You going out?" he said and Blaine was confused at how the painted picture that he'd had his head the last few hours of a darker version of Kurt, not at all added up to the person standing in front of him.

"Ehm, yes, buying food," Blaine said and held up the door for Kurt. "You had a good show?"

"Yes yes yes," Kurt said and waved dismissively. "Oh, you might want this!"

He handed Blaine the umbrella and pushed the button to the fourth floor.

"Thanks. See you soon," Blaine said and stepped away from the door, still holding it with a couple of fingers.

"Yeah. Don't forget to buy milk, we ran out this morning," Kurt added in the last second and Blaine nodded before the door closed and the elevator started buzzing.

Blaine walked out on the street and frowned at the sky. It was hardly raining. He shook his head at Kurt's sensitivity when it came to water and hair and used the umbrella as a walking stick instead.

He hadn't expected to run into Kurt like that, like two neighbors might. _Like neighbors who share milk,_ the rational part of his brain added.

He spent a good amount of time in the grocery store, trying to decide what to cook by walking up and down the aisles and putting all things one might need in a home (such as cinnamon, toothpaste, powdered sugar and cherry tomatoes). He didn't have a list, and had no specific plans for those items, but figured that maybe sometime Kurt would make a cake and need sugar for the frosting and surely they would run out of toothpaste.

Blaine finally settled for making a fish dish and hoped that it would fit into Fiona's vegetarian schedule. He payed and left with two paper caries, filled to the brim. Halfway home he realized he'd left the umbrella by the checkout and had to go back. By the time he entered the apartment building it was almost dark outside and his arms were down to his knees.

Kurt met him in the hall, coming out from the bathroom and wondering what had taken him so long. He laughed at the sight of the bags and carried them into the kitchen, marveling at the weight.

"Jeez, Blaine, did you buy their entire assortment of cheese or something?" he said and Blaine heard the thud of the groceries being put down on the table as he threw his scarf up on the hatrack.

Blaine wandered into the kitchen where Kurt was frowning over a jar of mustard.

"You hate mustard," he said and Blaine felt a little embarrassed over his spontaneous shopping spree. In the supermarket.

"I thought I'd give it another go," he said and shrugged.

"Last time you tried it you said you wanted to, and let me quote, 'clean my mouth with a sponge and Kurt's guest soap'," Kurt retorted and eyed Blaine amusingly before putting the jar in the cabinet. "It's good to keep your mind open and all, but stay away from the soap okay. It's from England."

"Yes, dear," Blaine said and Kurt smirked, leaving Blaine no other choice but to feel a little better. And help with the unpacking. Suddenly he couldn't remember why he'd picked out half of the items.

"You forgot milk," Kurt said when they were done, closing the full refrigerator. Blaine clasped his forehead. "Good thing you bought _everything_ else though."

"Argh, I'm sorry, I'll go down to the drug store if you're desperate?" Blaine said and felt like a moron. But Kurt just laughed.

"Don't bother, I'll just put some mustard in my coffee and that'll be that," he said and Blaine couldn't help but to squirm at the idea of ruining perfectly good coffee in such a despicable manner. "And I think that face just made it worth it."

Kurt grabbed Blaine's arm and pulled him in for a quick kiss, not stepping back when it ended.

"Plus, I can think of better ways to spend that time," he said, mouth curling upwards and fingers curling at the hem of Blaine's shirt. "I've been thinking about you all day."

Blaine was about to say "me too" but realized with a pang of guilt that what he had been thinking about probably wasn't the same thing that Kurt had been thinking about.

"Fiona's coming over for dinner tonight," he said instead and cursed himself internally. Why the hell would he bring that up? Lately he didn't seem to have any connection between his brain and tongue. Maybe that was the point.

"Oh?" Kurt looked surprised at this sudden announcement, eyes wide and neck a bit straighter.

"I just meant... I'm doing bouillabaisse and I need to get started..." Blaine said and motioned to the stove. "And don't you need to rest before the second show?"

"Yes, I guess I do," Kurt said and pushed his lips together, eyes dropping to the floor before walking away with eyebrows raised in bewilderment. He added airily "I was just hoping that it would be in a post-orgasmic haze."

Blaine groaned and turned around, Kurt was halfway through the living room.

"Kurt..."

"I'm just kidding, you looney. Seriously, Blaine, where is your head at today?" Kurt called out from the couch and Blaine rested his head in his hands, leaning against the counter for a moment. He was wondering that himself. "Tell me when you get to the seasoning and I'll come and pry the salt out your hands."

* * *

><p>Contrary to popular belief Blaine was quite a good cook. However, he didn't enjoy it half as much as Kurt, who thrived in throwing well-planned dinner parties for friends and family. Sometimes Blaine would help him, and they worked quite well together (even though at first Kurt had shooed him out of the kitchen, dismissing him as distracting). But Kurt got all the credit because he put his heart and soul into those menus. It hadn't been much of that lately though, and to Blaine it was a necessary evil to make dinner and eat alone.<p>

But now he got a chance to shine, and it had been a success. Kurt had complimented him on the rich fumes and said something in french which Blaine didn't understand. When he'd asked Kurt he'd told him that he'd find out soon enough, looking up in the ceiling innocently.

Fiona arrived right on the clock about five minutes after Kurt had left and she was livid over Blaine's cooking skills.

"If you can feed yourself you'll survive, but if you can feed others, you have power!" she said and nodded seriously.

Blaine also had a talent for picking out wine. And as their bowls emptied, their glasses just kept filling up.

Around the bottom of his second glass he was finally feeling happier than he'd been for days, maybe weeks. Despite the fact that he had an entire aquarium inside him he felt light. They talked about Fiona's upcoming project, a charity concert, and she proposed him to be part of it. They talked about when she had first moved to New York at 19 and accidentally worked as a prostitute. They talked about how Blaine had taken ballet classes for an entire term before being handed a pair of tights and refusing to put them on. Blaine talked about how good Kurt looked in tights (and a leotard). They talked about a lot of random, irrelevant stuff and mostly they laughed, because when Blaine was drunk he became a complete goofball, and Fiona became hilarious.

As the night continued, far after Blaine had put their plates in the sink and opened a second bottle, their topics became more and more philosophic and obscure, and then they talked about Love.

"You know Blaine, I never really believed in love. No no no, it true! I know you think I'm some hippie who goes around planting flowers and painting the streets with hearts, but that's all for the art. The _beauty_. But, Blaine, tonight! The food was beautiful, and the wine was beautiful, and you are beautiful and I am just in love!" she said with great conviction, leaning back against the wall and throwing her legs over the chair next to hers. Blaine grinned at her and she grabbed the hand he had over the foot of the glass, suddenly very serious. "Are you in love, Blaine?"

Blaine couldn't help himself, he started laughing. Her intense stare just made it funnier, until he asked himself why it was so funny, and then he just wanted to keep laughing for the bubbly physical feeling of it. All evening he'd managed to keep the guilt and anxiety at bay, too busy having a nice time.

"I never told Kurt about the job," he said, still giggling a little and Fiona's hand fell off him as he lifted the glass to his lips, taking a small sip. "Because I think he won't be too happy. It's selfless really, and isn't that what you are when you love someone!"

Some kind of melodramatic mood had snuck in on him and he waved his glass grandly. She smiled down her lap.

"That's what they want you to believe, when in fact loving someone is the most selfish thing of all," Fiona declared, looking back at Blaine who tried to frown but just scrunched his whole face together. "Living like a parasite on someone else's being and feeding off their actions and craving their emotions. It's demonic."

"You sound like someone I used to know," Blaine said as the image of Sue Sylvester crossed his mind. "Anyway, I think you're wrong. Again! Hah!"

Fiona nodded sadly.

"Probably. What do I know, right?"

Blaine often felt bad for Fiona's unfortunate romantic history, which wasn't very romantic and something she rather not discuss. She focused on a thousand different project instead and most of the time she seemed happy with that, but then there were times like these where she would slip up.

"You can't be bitter already, you're just 30," Blaine said and she looked at him in disbelief.

"You sound a bit bitter yourself, and you're not _even_ 30," she said and Blaine shook his head.

"Nah-ah, I'm not bitter. I'm not! I just wish that I didn't have like a..." He squinted up to the ceiling in search for words. "A stone in my chest. Or like, a small creature clawing a hole that just makes me sad..." He snickered a little at the mental image.

"And bitter," Fiona called out. Blaine traced the rim of his glass with a finger and sighed.

"Maybe a little bitter," he conceded but was quick to add "but just because I can't look at Kurt without feeling guilty and then because I don't know who the hell I see. Is he mad? Is he sad? Is he thinking about something else? Does he love me? I'm just so, so confused, I don't even know what I'm saying! All these words just spill out of my mouth and I'm thinking, 'what, that wasn't what I planned, man this is annoying.'"

Fiona looked at him for a second and then she stood up and finished her drink.

"Are you leaving?"

Fiona put down her glass and picked up the wine bottle.

"No. Come on, we're taking this party to the living room."

Blaine smiled instantly and followed her, concentrating on not tripping over the threshold or his feet. It went surprisingly well. Fiona climbed up on the sofa and sat on the armrest, legs stretched over one cushion. Blaine sat down on the other and pulled his legs up under him, his bent knees hoovering over Fiona's toes.

"So Kurt is not letting you express yourself clearly," Fiona said. "He has turned you into a stuttering fool with an ache in your chest I meanwhile I hear that is what happens when you are in loooove, I don't think that's the problem here. Am I right or am I right."

Blaine looked up at her and thought about it. This was obviously about so much more than just loving someone, but at the moment Blaine couldn't quite wrap his mind around what.

"What are you afraid of is gonna happen? If you tell him I mean," she asked and Blaine shifted back a little into the corner.

"That things will change. For the worse." Blaine crossed his arms over his chest. "And you know, he'll think I'm a loser and stop looking at me at all. Or he'll storm out right away, I don't know. It doesn't sound like something he would do but these days I just don't know. I just don't fucking know."

"Hey Blaine, don't look like that, you're breaking my heart," Fiona said because the warm fuzzy feeling had once again been replace with reminders of reality, or what he made out to be reality. She slid down from the armrest and sat on her feet, putting a hand on Blaine's knee. "And more importantly, you're breaking your own."

"I don't want to tell him. I just want it to work out and then things can go back to normal. Whatever that is."

"But you said that you had problems before..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Kurt working too much and I working too much and not enough time together and never go out to eat or see a movie or anything and no sex and weird fights blah blah blah," Blaine rambled and it wasn't like he'd forgotten that there had been troubles before. That just seemed like another reason for postponing the announcement.

"I just mean that maybe normal isn't working for you anymore, maybe you need something new."

"No, I need to go back." Blaine looked up in the ceiling and hated on the impossibility of his statement. "It's not like we haven't had troubles before, we almost lived on the street for a while and if that isn't stressful I don't know what is."

"But you were in it together. And this isn't about economy or even about you losing your job, it's about your insecurities as a couple and yourself," Fiona said and Blaine tilted his head at her.

"How can you sound so sure?"

"Because I am hopelessly perceptive when it comes to other people," Fiona shrugged and leaned against Blaine's legs. "It's quite annoying."

Blaine chuckled but Fiona looked dead serious. She traced the outer seam of Blaine's jeans with her thumbnail. They sat in silence for a while but Blaine's head was a cacophony of alcohol scrambled thoughts. He felt extremely frustrated at his inability to make sense of anything, even more so than usual.

Eventually the conversation picked up again, starting with some silly remark and going downhill from there. They got quite comfortable, by the time a key twisted in the door Blaine was lying with his head in Fiona's lap (instant therapy session, she had called it) and was half asleep but laughing uncontrollably. Even though he couldn't quite remember what was so funny he couldn't stop when door opened and Fiona stopped twirling his hair around her fingers.

"Blaine? …Fiona!"

Kurt was looking at them from the hall and Blaine tried to lift his head but it was too heavy.

"Hi Kurt, you're home early!" Blaine said and lifted his arm to wave but ended up knocking over the wine bottle that he'd put on the floor. It was empty but Kurt didn't know that.

"Watch out!" he shrieked and kind of leaped forward as the bottle rolled on the carpet.

"Oops," Blaine said and reached for the bottle, and falling off the couch in the process.

"Oh god, is there a stain, please tell me that there isn't a red wine stain on my antique persian carpet," Kurt pleaded and inspected the carpet testily. Blaine padded awkwardly around himself. It was quite dark but as far as he could tell there was dry.

"I'm pretty sure there wasn't a drop left," Fiona said and Blaine chuckled. Kurt let out a relieved sigh and walked back into the hall, taking off his coat.

"Well, I guess I better take off," Fiona said and stood up. Kurt came back in and smiled icily at Fiona as he walked into the bathroom to wash his hands.

"Wow, I see what you mean," Fiona whispered loudly to Blaine. "Stone cold."

The water stopped abruptly and Kurt returned to the living room.

"What's that now?" Kurt said, hands on hips and voice ominous. Blaine's heart took a pause before racing away. This was not good.

"Nothing, nothing!" Fiona laughed it off easily, turning to Blaine before Kurt could answer. "I'll see you on Monday. Thanks for a fantastic evening."

She bent down and kissed him on the head and was across the room the next second.

"Nice to see you, Kurt," she said and by the way Kurt was staring at her Blaine realized this would be a good moment to speak up.

"Yes, let's do this again. Do you want me to call a cab?" he said and heaved up from the floor.

"Oh no no, I'll be fine. Now where are my shoes... Oh there!" Blaine dared a glance at Kurt who was looking at him with an indescribable expression on his face. "Okay then. Thanks again, Blaine. Oh gosh, how do you..."

"It's the other way."

"Oh, there we go." The door clicked open and she smiled back at Blaine, waving to Kurt, whose gaze Blaine felt like spears in his neck. "Good night!"

The door closed Blaine went to lock it, a little dizzy but yet strangely sober.

"Was it a n-" Blaine tried but Kurt interrupted him.

"What the hell was that about?"

He sounded more upset than Blaine had expected, voice almost shaking.

"What do you mean? If you mean the carpet there really wasn't-"

"No, I don't mean the goddamn carpet – she practically looks like she want to eat you for breakfast, dinner and desert, and what was she doing here so late anyway?"

Blaine frowned at him, sincerely puzzled.

"I don't know what you're talking about... It got a little late but it was just nice having some company," Blaine said and reached out to the light switch on the wall, missing it by an inch.

"You're drunk," Kurt said and folded his arms over his chest.

"Wine was consumed," Blaine said and nodded. "So what, I'm a grown man, I'm allowed."

"Yes, Blaine, I realize that. I just didn't expect coming home and finding you in the fucking lap on a woman with her hands all over you," Kurt said but Blaine still didn't understand why he was so upset. Fiona was a woman. There was really no reason to be jealous.

"Are you upset about what she said? Because I can explain that..." Blaine said and walked past Kurt and leaned against the sofa.

"No, no, let me guess. You told her that I am, what was it, cold? Is that what you think?" Kurt's voice was higher now, and he was visibly trying to gain composure by standing straighter.

"No, I never said that, I just said that lately we'd had some problems and that you seem... absent sometimes and -"

"You told her about our problems? And what the fuck gives you the right to do that, Blaine?" He was losing it now, Blaine could see it in the way his cheeks flushed and slightly aggressive posture.

"She's my friend! She's willing to listen and help and why wouldn't I be able to ask for her advice?" Blaine wasn't exactly losing his temper, he was more frustrated, because this was yet another thing he didn't understand.

"Advice? Advice about what exactly? How to deal with your boyfriend of ten fucking years? Yeah, seems like she would have a lot of experience with that!" Kurt snorted.

"Well at least she tries to help-"

"And exactly how does she do that, Blaine? Does she say that you should stay and really, it's not that bad, or does she take your hand and tell you that you deserve better?" The force behind Kurt's words were penetrating and Blaine just gaped like a fish for a moment. And Kurt nodded. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Gosh, Blaine, you are so oblivious."

"No I'm not," Blaine said and stood up, blood pounding in his ears. "You don't even know her!"

"I'm perfectly capable of seeing when a woman is throwing herself at you. Been there before, remember?"

"So what! So what if she is." Blaine didn't think so and this was neither here nor there. "It's not like anything would happen."

Kurt looked down then and swallowed because he probably realized that this argument was a closed case.

"Well okay, fine. I know," he said with strain. This was tearing them apart but the rush of alcohol and adrenaline in Blaine's body wouldn't let him get away this time.

"She's a really good friend, she's been really supportive," he said and Kurt's body language said 'yeah, I bet'. "Stop that!"

"Okay, Blaine, tell me how nice and wonderful and supportive she's been while I have been so terrible and busy and cold," Kurt said, spikes out again.

"God, Kurt, not everything is about you!" Blaine almost shouted, even though it wasn't entirely true, he needed to tell himself that.

"Would you mind informing me then what this-"

"I lost my job!"

And there it was. Silence echoed between them and Kurt's face was just as shocked as one would think and Blaine didn't dare to look away.

"So there, now you know," Blaine said because the quiet hurt his ears. He watched carefully as Kurt closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

"And why the hell didn't you tell me," he said in such a small voice that Blaine wanted to curl up into a dark hole.

"I didn't... I didn't want you to worry," Blaine tried because it was the closest to the truth he could muster.

"But you... but you told her," Kurt said and half chuckled half sniffed up at the ceiling.

"She's a colleague, and a friend." Blaine took a small step towards Kurt and Kurt raised his hands.

"Yeah, I got that," he said and looked down at Blaine again.

"I tried to tell you, I just... couldn't," Blaine said.

"Gosh, Blaine, you are such an idiot! And I am such an idiot! And I don't know if I can do this anymore!"

All air drained from around Blaine, he was being sucked into a vacuum.

"And you're drunk and I am so tired and," Kurt swallowed hard, again and Blaine wished there wouldn't be any tears to hold back, "I just can't do this right now. I'm... I'm sorry."

Blaine just stared at him and refused to think the unthinkable which he had been thinking all along.

"You're leaving," he gulped and his voice was so low that he wasn't sure Kurt had heard him.

"I just think we both need to straighten our head out, get some... sleep."

Blaine's head had never been as clear.

"I just want you to stay."

He sounded so needy, and it was a childishly worded but he didn't care. He couldn't have Kurt walk out that door.

"We'll talk tomorrow," Kurt promised. "I just can't... we can't talk about this now and I can't listen to you breathing all night, I have to go. Blaine, please forgive me."

Kurt's eyes were frantic, darting around the room and over Blaine. They were wide and shiny and they made Blaine believe him.

They didn't made it less hard when Kurt grabbed his coat off the hanger, damp from just minutes before, and Blaine saw him wiping his cheek with the back of his hand as he opened the door. Leaving Blaine nailed to the floorboards, caught between wood and gravity and surrealism.

Leaving Blaine.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** I am SO SORRY for the absolute absurd delay! I had a bit of trouble with where this chapter was going and the boys were not exactly helping... Complicated souls, aren't they?

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 6<em>

That night Blaine felt like he woke up twice as many times as he fell asleep.

He couldn't make himself go into the bedroom, even though the couch was too soft for his back and his shoulders were bound to go stiff. But at least that was for sure. As was that he'd go through the next day with a splitting headache. The next day however, seemed like light years away in the semi sober, half asleep and full on anguished state he was in. Sometimes twisting and twirling, sometimes so still he barely breathed – the hours of the night appeared endless.

That was why, when it was still dark but the people outside coming home from parties were replace by those who worked on Sundays, Blaine sat up and decided that the night was over.

He blinked a few times, getting used to the stickiness and forcing them to stay open. He shivered from the effort of being awake, the early morning frost outside not helping his case. But while his body wanted, his mind _craved_. He had to do something and sleeping was both too inactive and complicated.

He threw the blanket over his shoulders and stood up and his head immediately started throbbing like a second heartbeat, low and steady. He walked to the kitchen sink on sore feet, his skin felt cold and thin, not quite ready to be used. He poured a glass of water without waiting for it to get cold, licking his dehydrated lips before drinking.

The sound of him putting the glass down reached his ears but inside his mind it sounded distant and strange, like someone else had caused it. Everything around him seemed different.

The kitchen table chairs with perfectly clean satin cushions, the ticking of the clock above the door, the ever growing mix of photos, magazine cut outs and a notepad for shopping lists on the fridge, Kurt's collection of aprons on the wall, and the kitchen table, with a burnt down candle and two wine-stained glasses. An icy tingle went through Blaine's spine because it felt a little like standing in an exact replica of their kitchen, except everything was lifeless and empty. Blaine wasn't used to the cold light illuminating from the living room window and he wasn't used to the ringing in his ears when everything else was so silent.

Somewhere a door slammed shut and it made Blaine's throat clog up, trying not to see Kurt when he squeezed his eyes shut but wanting just that.

The urge to take action grew. Most of all he wanted to find Kurt and bring him home, bring him anywhere where they might be happy. Bring them back in time would be ideal. But he felt trapped in an alternate universe, on the other side of a door that Kurt had walked out of.

Nevertheless, he had his phone in his hand and before he could think about how it got there he had Kurt's smiling face plastered over the screen and signals beeping through the speaker. He held his breath as he lifted the phone to his ear and listened to the monotone beeps, the space between them infinite.

"_Hello, you have reached Kurt Hummel's voice mail. You can either leave me a fun little message or try again later, whatever floats your boat. Don't be a stranger!"_

Kurt's voice pierced through Blaine's brain, bright and clear, and he barely got to the hang up-button before another beep initiated the recording. He threw the phone back on the table and inhaled shakily. He didn't know what to say. He didn't even know if he would be able to speak – he'd left his voice at the other side of the night.

Hearing Kurt, calm and untroubled, further alienated him from the prospect of tomorrow. And Kurt hadn't picked up, probably having put his phone on silent to sleep without interruption.

Because surely he couldn't be awake in that very moment? In some hotel room that was as dim and hostile as this apartment? With the same iron fist around his heart and gravity pulling the weight of his body down, heavy heavy heavy.

Blaine slid down against the dishwasher, sprawling his legs out in front of him and leaning his head back. He forced himself to think about last night. It wasn't very hard to remember because it was all he had thought about anyway. He tried to understand why Kurt would leave like that, when they so obviously needed to talk it out. Never had there been a fight so big that they hadn't been able to work through it within hours. Except maybe on a few occasions when they still were in high school and didn't see each other every day. Blaine vaguely recalled some big drama about how the Warblers had been accused of cheating at regionals or something and Blaine had thought Kurt hadn't stood up for him enough. Kurt had stormed out then, gone back to Lima, and Blaine had been so upset to be eliminated that he'd refused to contact Kurt for days. He'd been absolutely miserable, about Kurt more than the competition, and eventually he missed him so bad that he'd swallowed his pride, realized his mistake and apologized in song at McKinley. Turned out that Kurt had been feeling just as bad because when he got home the same day (after making up for lost time in the choir room) he had found a letter with two tickets to a musical addressed to him in Kurt's handwriting. It had been so easy to work around the problem, everything had still been so new and exciting and romantic. Blaine didn't think there was anything romantic about sitting on the kitchen floor and wondering why your life was crumbling down around you.

It may sound like a whole lot of self pity, but the reason for Blaine's despair was that he was on the brink of losing it. He'd barely cried when Kurt left, just fallen down in some kind of painful numbness, if that was possible. He was so aware of what just had happened, the image of Kurt actually walking away hitting him again and again, but still he didn't let himself think about what that could mean, if that could be the final outcome of all this.

He tried to focus on understanding, tried to be rational and just hold out until a decent hour. But it was difficult with what had been left out there, revealed and played out in the worst possible scenario.

Blaine looked down at his hands in his lap and played Kurt's words in his head over and over again. On one hand, he'd said he was sorry, that he was an idiot and that they'd talk tomorrow. On the other hand, he'd said that he didn't know if he could do this anymore and he had left. Blaine didn't know what to believe. He didn't understand Kurt's reasons for turning away like that and the wait was becoming a little unbearable.

That is why felt his heart hitch in his chest as he got an idea, pushing himself onto his feet and leaving the kitchen. He found himself in the bedroom, in front of Kurt's nightstand where Blaine knew that Kurt kept his journal. He opened the drawer and there it was – a black leather book with a red ribbon hanging out from the middle and a ballpoint pen on top if it.

Kurt had an entire case of old books like these, dating way back to his early teenage years. He'd read some particularly amusing entries to Blaine, with great enthusiasm and a healthy dose of embarrassment, when they were packing up their boxes to this apartment. He had often written when he was going through something emotional or eventful, as an outlet back when he didn't really have anyone to talk with. And then it had just continued. Although Blaine knew he didn't write as much as when he was younger – he'd seen this book around for over a year – he was pretty sure Kurt had kept to the pattern of only writing when he had something to write about. And he was standing there wondering, with his fingers on the spine, if maybe there were some answers in there.

Blaine didn't think off himself as a person who read other people's journals so it wasn't without guilt he lifted the book out of the drawer and sat down on the bed. But as it things were, he found himself feeling that Kurt owed him some explanations, even if he had to hunt them down himself. For all Blaine knew, Kurt might just spend the entire night coming up with words that made things kinder, but not at all better. Or maybe he was just thinking of ways to let Blaine down gently.

His mind was racing again so he opened the journal at the last entry which dated about two weeks ago. He bit his lip and looked at his knees over the edge of the journal before getting to the actual text.

_I'm worried about Blaine._

Blaine's jaw clenched and he stared at the way Kurt wrote B's before daring to continue.

_It's been going on for some time now, him acting a bit weird and aloof, but it's not even that. I can't quite put my finger on it. It's just like knowing that turtlenecks will be back in fashion this winter – it's intuition based on years of research and paying attention to the subtlest of details. _

_Last night he told me that he misses me. How do I even begin to describe the look on his face? I swear that sometimes it's like not a day has gone by since high school when he looks at me like that. But yesterday there was this sadness in his eyes, and even though I've seen that before too it just tugged at my heart when it just should have been a beautiful moment. And he tells me that he thinks that we never see each other anymore. And I get where he's coming from. These last few months have been crazy. My whole life has been turned upside down, including my life with Blaine. It has been fantastic for the most part but I guess stardom really does come with a price..._

_But I do miss Blaine, and I hope he doesn't doubt that. Despite what various sitcoms will tell you about people in longterm relationships, it's not fun having to leave every day he gets home from work, or wake up alone in the mornings. But I think it's harder for him, because what caused this in the first place is that my wildest dream came true and I refuse to feel sorry about that._

_Lately I can't help but to wonder... I know he loves his job, but it has been a good while since I saw him speaking really passionately about it and his students. He doesn't have that spark in his eye, he doesn't light up in excitement and get that dreamy look on his face. I choose to believe that it has nothing to do with getting older, it's never too late to have high hopes._

_Blaine is the most passionate person I know (I count Rachel as manic) so to see him so... faded is really starting to get to me. I hope that maybe it's just a reaction to the downright depressing weather, I still remember the winter of 2015 thank you very much, but I've got an unsettling feeling that it's more than that. (Although this autumn is enough to have anyone jumping from Brooklyn Bridge, I've already broken one of my Alexander McQueen umbrellas.)_

_I wonder what happened to those dreams he had, that we both had, and would lie awake and talk about until the morning broke. Sure it's easy to dream when you're young but Blaine is also so, so ambitious, he's always gone after what he wants, committed to 106 percent. Maybe this just isn't what he wants anymore, to be a teacher. _

_He played me a song the other night and it was beautiful as always. If not a little cheesy because it was the same one that he serenaded me with once upon a time in a land far far away. God, I can't believe it's been almost ten years, it feels like an eternity and the blink of an eye at the same time. Oh shit, I keep getting sidetracked because it's so hard to put all this into words, partly because I can't really describe it, and partly because it hurts a little to think about._

_I think of Blaine on stage, moving like he was born to perform. I think he kind of was. I think he misses it more than he lets on, probably more than he misses me. _

It was the end of a page, but Blaine didn't turn it. The words blurred as he focused on nothing, unblinking to keep the water in his eyes from spilling down on the paper. It was not at all what he had expected.

But what had he thought he would find?

Did he think it would be something that would justify him reading his diary? Something that would open up the sky and have a rainbow lead him happiness? Something that would make him love Kurt less, preparing him for what might come?

No.

Blaine hadn't been thinking much. It had just been an instant fix to Kurt's heart, a desperate attempt to calm his own mind.

Mission failed.

Not only did Blaine feel disgusting for intruding into Kurt's mind, especially since it had been such a long time he'd had a true, real piece of it, but what he'd written was so unheard of. Before their argument a couple of nights ago, Kurt had never dropped a hint of his theories of Blaine being under-stimulated. Never asked, more than casually, how he was feeling or how his job was.

And Blaine felt a swoop in his stomach when he realized that this had been exactly what he'd been fearing all week – that Kurt would think he had failed.

Expect that this was before Blaine had lost his job, before Blaine had had a thought of future crisis concerning his career. Or?

Blaine simply could not think about that right now. It was another thundercloud in his head, standing in line to release its wrath. Blaine simultaneously wanted to crawl in under the bed, sink through the floor, and stand in the window and scream all things that needed to be screamed.

He closed the book, clutching it so hard that his fingernails left dents in the leather. Then he dusted it off, as if it would erase his interference, and threw it back in the drawer. He fell back on the bed and rubbed his eyes until he saw stars behind his eyelids. Then he stopped, making a feeble attempt to massage his temples before grabbing onto his hair and thinking _what the hell have I done?_

* * *

><p>The hours did go by. He'd fallen asleep on the bed despite himself. When he woke up it was past 9 o'clock and it was a relief to leave the lonely night behind. Now there was the usual sound of the city outside the window, even a sunbeam or two streaked through the living room as Blaine headed to the toilet.<p>

It made everything better and it made everything worse.

There was an air of normalcy, just another day in the life and what do you know, the sun rose again. It gave Blaine some hope that it really couldn't be that bad, that the world hadn't stopped because of this. False alarm. Today things would work out.

Then there was the part of him that ached with fear, that made his spine weak, of that the world would go on without Kurt. That the sun would continue to shine on the floor and the sirens on the street would always be loud, because they didn't know and didn't care.

Blaine took a shower, head snapping to his phone that he'd placed on the handbasin every ten seconds when the water drizzling past his ears sounded like a signal.

He throughly ignored the fact that he was terribly hungover and felt like he had a lump of lead pressing against his skull. His body was sore with tension and his mouth and throat dry as autumn leaves. Normally he'd gone through the usual day after drinking routine of swallowing pills and ordering pizza from the couch and being as lazy as humanly possible, but the idea was strangely repulsing.

Instead he got out of the shower, threw some old jeans and t-shirt on and made coffee. Strong coffee. The kind that he made on early mornings when he didn't care if he put salt or sugar in it because he just needed to wake up already. He made some toast and couldn't resist putting three layers of cheese on top and was grateful that he'd bought the kind with high percentage of fat.

It was all with the best of intention, but also against his better judgement. He sat down at the table, put the phone beside his plate and drank half of the cup of coffee way too quickly. He bit down on the bread and realized that instead of staring across the table, he could be reading the paper. He stood up and made it to the threshold of the hall before spinning on his heel and finding himself on the bathroom floor, throwing up in the toilet.

That was when he called.

The phone vibrated in his pocket as he was flushing, and for a brief second the only thing that went through Blaine's mind was the question of when he'd put his phone there.

He stood up as fast as he could on shaky legs and washed his hands and face and mouth in a rapid speed before fishing out his phone and...

"Hello?" Blaine's voice sounded like it had gone through a grinder, coming out thin and broken.

There was no answer though and Blaine looked at the screen and it said _1 missed call_. He'd missed it by a nanosecond and it was enough for him to feel dizzy and have to sit down on the floor and lean against the laundry basket while trying to dial Kurt's number, not even thinking about that he could hit speed dial.

He finally managed to get it right and tried to clear his throat as he lifted the phone to his ear again. _Beep beep beep beep_. Kurt must be leaving him a message, under the belief that Blaine hadn't answered, thinking that Blaine hadn't unlocked his phone three times a minute to make sure the sound was on, that Blaine had something else to do than talk to him.

Blaine hung up and counted to ten before he hit redial, although it was probably only three seconds. The busy signal shouted in his ear and Blaine started to panic. Why had he bothered drying his hands? When Kurt wanted to speak to him and when Blaine needed to speak to him.

He hung up again and put his elbows on his knees, thumping the phone against his forehead to the beat of his curses. After a minute or so his phone notified him about a voice mail and without even contemplating to listen to he called Kurt again. One short signal went through but it was enough for Blaine to notice how his heartbeat had gone up.

"Hello?"

Kurt's voice wasn't raw like Blaine's, it actually sounded sharper than usual. A tad higher and on edge.

"Hi," Blaine said and swallowed. What was he supposed to say?

"Hi," Kurt said after a moment of silence. Uncomfortable, horrible silence. "I take it you didn't listen to my message?"

"No, I missed your called just by a second so I just wanted to call you back as soon as possible," Blaine said with closed eyes and tried to take a deep inaudible breath.

"Oh, I see." A moment's pause... "I just called to say that perhaps we could have breakfast together. Have you already eaten? Or lunch. I know it's early but..."

"Yes, yeah, sure," Blaine said and coughed.

"Okay, good." Kurt sounded relieved and then his voice softened. "Are you okay? You sound like you're coming down with something." Blaine rubbed his eyes and shook his head, almost laughing.

"No, I just... couldn't sleep," he said and rolled his eyes at this obvious statement.

"Me neither," Kurt told him and Blaine let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I... I'm so sorry about running out like that it just... seemed like a good idea at the time." Blaine clutched the phone so hard he would either break it or climb through it.

"It was a really fucking bad idea," Blaine said shakily and listened to Kurt's shuddering laugh.

"I just... there's just..." Blaine heard him swallow. "Shit, Blaine, I can't do this over the phone."

"Come home then," Blaine said and tried to keep his voice steady. No such luck. "What can't you do?"

"I need to see you, we need to talk this through." Blaine nodded even though he knew that Kurt couldn't see. "Can we meet at Rosemary's in an hour?"

It was one on their favorite cafés in the heart of Greenwich Village. Blaine hesitated – why couldn't Kurt just come there?

"I... Sure. I'll be there," he then said. On second thought he'd probably would have gone to Egypt it Kurt had asked him to.

"Okay, good. I could kill for a cinnamon latte right now," Kurt said and Blaine appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood but resented that it made him cringe. Blaine cleared his throat.

"I'll see you there then."

"Mhm, yes, one hour, sixty minutes, don't be late!" Kurt said, in a chipper manner, as if it was just another casual lunch.

"Stop that," Blaine said before he could regret it. "Stop sounding like everything's alright, Kurt. Stop talking about coffee, I don't care about coffee, coffee makes me sick. It's not alright so just... stop."

"Stop being such a drama queen, Blaine," Kurt said and Blaine could tell he was trying to sound nonchalant but he was just as scared as Blaine was.

"Drama queen? Well, I'm not the one who stormed out into the night, Kurt."

"Yes, I know that. I know, Blaine." He sounded very tired. "Just meet me at there and we'll talk about all this then."

"Fine."

"Bye."

"Bye."

_Click_.

* * *

><p>When Blaine entered Rosemary's 55 minutes later, Kurt was already sitting by a table in the back. He was stirring his tall glass of coffee and didn't see Blaine come in. Blaine stood in line and observed Kurt.<p>

He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, a discrete black outfit with the addition of a pale blue scarf that Blaine didn't recognize. His hair wasn't messy, but it also wasn't fixed like usual and he'd let his bangs show. He looked younger like this, with his head bowed in solitude, Blaine thought, and almost ordinary.

Kurt looked up then, but not at Blaine. He looked out the window, or in that direction. His eyes didn't move as if lost in thought. Blaine was nervous and Kurt looked like he needed a hug. It would have been laughable hadn't it been heartbreaking.

"Um, next please?"

Blaine tore his eyes away and found himself first in line, although a good bit away from the counter. The young cashier smiled at him politely.

"What would you like?" she asked as Blaine took a step forward, thought "Him" and inwardly rolled his eyes at his cheesiness and frowned a little as he saw the cashier's eyes travel in Kurt's direction and he swore he saw her mouth twitching upwards.

"Ehm, I'll have a bagel with cream cheese and just like a... big glass of water?" Blaine said. After the phone call he'd come to his senses and tried to cure his hangover, making eggs and swallowing pills. This day would be hard enough as it was.

"Absolutely," the girl said and reached for the bagel. "Water's on the counter."

Blaine helped himself, payed and grabbed his plate. When she handed him the change she leaned in a little and whispered "He's totally checking you out too," with an encouraging nod. Before Blaine could react she was helping the next costumer.

Great, they looked as nervous as if they were on a first date or something. The girl flashed him a quick smile before he turned around and Blaine couldn't help but to find it a little endearing. He smiled back. At least someone was rooting for them.

And Kurt was looking at him. He removed his bag from the chair across the table as Blaine strode over to him, zigzagging between chairs and tables and feet.

"Hey," he greeted and put down the plate and glass and Kurt pushed the chair out with his foot.

"Hi," he said as Blaine sat down. He eyed Blaine seriously and bit his lip. "So... we need to talk."

"Yeah," Blaine said and met Kurt's eyes. Neither of them looked away for a couple of seconds and in that moment, it was like they understood each other perfectly. There they were, just Kurt and Blaine, facing another obstacle, mirroring fears and gaining strength.

But this time they were the obstacle, and they needed to break the silence and speak.

Blaine had thought about this all night, how he would explain, not lose his temper, listen, find all the right words. He looked away first and down at the table quickly before looking back up at Kurt, breaking the spell to gather all things that needed to be said and force them out.

"I guess we need to talk about my job, or the lack thereof," he said reluctantly and Kurt looked down at Blaine's hands.

"Blaine... I'm really sorry about last night. I shouldn't have... left like that. I thought about it all night, how... broken you looked." Kurt sighed and avoided looking at Blaine for too long. "It was selfish to make it about me, when you're the one who lost your job. I can't even imagine what that's like. How... how do you feel about it? When did you find out?"

Blaine could see that this was hard for Kurt, he was hurt because Blaine had betrayed their trust for one another. But more than anything he saw real concern, and guilt.

"On Wednesday," Blaine said and Kurt nodded and looked like he tried to remember.

"That was the day you came home and tickled me," he said and frowned.

"Yes. Kurt, you need to know that I was planning on telling to from the beginning. But when I came home that day, after that _shitty_ day, I saw you sleeping, and then you woke up. And we had that wonderful moment and it didn't matter for a while, it was just us. And... I didn't want to ruin that. You know how we've been lately, those moments have just gotten further and further apart and then..." Blaine closed his eyes for a quick second because he was going with brutal honesty here. "You didn't ask."

Kurt's eyes pierced him faster than lightning.

"I didn't ask? What do you mean? I should have asked whether or not you had been fired?"

"Of course not. It was just... Kurt, you have always been able to see straight through me. Like right now. I know you won't let me get away with anything but the truth, because I don't want to lie to you. I never wanted to lie, and you didn't _make_ me lie to you, of course not. But given everything that has been going on lately and feeling like... Like you're slipping away, that made me afraid that things would just go downhill from there, you know? Like, oh god this sounds so ridiculous, but you don't look at me the same way. You don't demand the truth from me anymore. Like you're afraid of what you'll find out or... don't care."

Blaine knew that it wasn't true that Kurt didn't care. Obviously he did care, otherwise he would be sitting there with a distressed look on his face, jaw clenched.

It was fear then.

"Blaine, of course I care." He almost sounded angry but then he grabbed Blaine's hand on the table. "Don't even say that."

"I know. But you can't deny that something has changed," Blaine said and he thought about what he had found this morning with an uncomfortable sensation in his stomach. He took a bite of his bagel.

"I know that things haven't exactly been ideal but was it really so bad that you couldn't tell me something of that level of importance? We share a life, Blaine, or at least we're supposed to."

"Yeah, at least we're supposed to..." Blaine found himself mumbling. Kurt was one to talk, having avoided this kind of conversation for months. "That's just it thought, isn't it? We share an apartment, the food in the fridge and a bed, just living alongside each other and sometimes not even that. I come, you go."

"What has changed though? It's not like we haven't been busy before. Remember when you worked double shifts in that godawful restaurant while I was in college? You came home every night smelling like deep fried onion and we were fine!"

"No, actually I distinctively remember you pushing me into the shower with a ten foot pole and forcing me to scrub every night," Blaine said and Kurt offered him half a smile, because even in moments like these, when things were serious and scary, it was so easy to fall back on the wit of memory lane. But the smiles soon faded, and it was just as well. "It's... strange. Because right now everything could be fine. You're here and we're talking, I mean really talking, and that's all I ever really wanted all along."

But that was when Kurt's gaze dropped, a subtle hint but as carved in stone to Blaine. There was still so much unsaid, words Blaine had no control over. But perhaps he could make sure that they were spoken.

"You can say it you know," he said and withdrew his hand from under Kurt's to lift the glass of water to his lips.

"Say what? What exactly is it that you want me to say all the time?" Kurt was getting frustrated, panicked, but Blaine felt strangely calm. He knew where this was going.

"What's really on your mind. Look, I know that you have every right to be angry about me not telling you. I deserve it and I can handle that. I can even understand how you might have been upset last night about Fiona, she had no right to say... whatever she said. But I can't handle you keeping things inside. That makes you just as dishonest as me, Kurt."

It wasn't with complete ease that Blaine watched Kurt reaction, but he knew he was right and that counted for something. And Kurt nodded slowly and bit the inside of his lip before speaking.

"You're right," he said hollowly. "Tell me something though, Blaine. What did you tell her? Fiona. What did you say about me?"

"I..." Blaine frowned. He couldn't remember exact words and he didn't see how this was of any importance anyway. "I guess I told her what I've been telling you. How we don't see each other as much. And... that I was afraid how you would react when you found out about the job, what it would do to us."

"Why?"

"Kurt, she's a friend and I needed someone to listen and –"

"No, I don't mean that. I'm sure she was very understanding. What did you think you think was gonna happen when you told me? Obviously you must have had some dreadful scenario evolving in your head that you couldn't shake."

Blaine wondered what Kurt was thinking behind his wrinkled forehead, if he was genuinely curious or fishing for something. Why couldn't he just ask Blaine straight out about those things Blaine had found in his diary? Blaine didn't necessarily want him to, but now that he knew about it he would prefer if it was all out in the open.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess did," Blaine said after a second or two. He was sticking to what he had been thinking all along, and then Kurt could do all the digging he wanted. "Ultimately I was afraid of you leaving. That we would drift even further apart and over time the way you see me would keep changing, until there wasn't anything left to hold on to. Then you would leave." Blaine snorted. "I guess it happened a bit quicker than that."

"Blaine, I haven't left you," Kurt said and Blaine let himself close his eyes and be comforted by the frustration in Kurt's voice, that told him that that was not what he wanted at all, if just for a second. "And you are a complete idiot for thinking that, that I would see you differently just because of your _job_? Because your boss is the asshole you've always claimed him to be? I would never do that. But perhaps we should talk about why you think that I would."

"Can't you see it happening already? You said it yourself, Kurt – that I was jealous of you, that you got to live your dream." Kurt opened his mouth to protest but Blaine didn't let him. "And now I've failed with whatever I did have. These things affect the dynamic of any relationship, obviously. I never thought they would affect ours though."

Kurt tilted his head to one side and Blaine felt very conscious of every movement. He didn't want to seem weak, or pleading. But it was hard when that was how he was feeling.

"So is that it? You _are_ envious," Kurt said quietly and Blaine groaned and run a hand through his hair.

"No! That's not my point at all. The thought that it should be me up on that stage instead of you never once crossed my mind. What I'm afraid of is that... Look, this feels like a failure to me, I'm losing my job, my income, all that I've known for the past three years and I'm thinking that 'how can he not see that? How can this not be an issue when everything else is?'" Blaine argued for what he had tried to prove himself was wrong so it didn't make much sense, perhaps none of this really did. And now Kurt was sitting across from him and he looked like he wanted to understand, he looked like he wanted to ask the right questions and touch Blaine's knee and comfort him.

But. Things are not always what they seem.

"I don't think you're a failure, Blaine. But this...," he waved his hand in front of his face, waved away the softness in his eyes. Or maybe it was the fact that they were focused on a spot beyond Blaine's ear that gave that impression of vacancy. "I don't know what you're saying to me right now."

Blaine frowned and grunted in confusion.

"I'm... saying that I'm losing something very dear to me, but it's not the only thing that I feel like I'm losing. How can you not understand..."

"Of course I get that it's hard for you to lose your job, but I'll be here for you, won't I?"

Blaine blinked several times. Who was this person and why did he claim to be Kurt Hummel?

"Will you? You can't even look at me right now. Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what? I'm just trying to understand," he looked at Blaine then, and it was with a weird mix of relief and pain that Blaine saw the specks sorrow in Kurt's eyes. But it wasn't enough. This wasn't enough and something bubbled up inside Blaine. Something that had been growing for a long time, and was directly related to the seal over Kurt's lips.

"Oh, for the love of... Would you drop the charade? You sit there and say how it's so important that we talk but you're not telling me what you're really thinking. I'm so, so fucking sick of having to read your mind, Kurt! And I know that you think that I've been unhappy but you can't even climb out of your shell enough to ask me straight out about it. Instead you make assumptions that I'm... jealous of you? Fuck, sometimes I feel like I don't know you anymore... and I pretend not to see how you're pushing me away but it's becoming impossible because it makes me heart ache and it's unbearable, Kurt. And what the fuck is this, anyway, meeting in a café? I asked you to come home to talk, where we fucking _live_, but you want to meet over _coffee_. And then what?"

What Blaine was saying, louder and louder, came from a place where he was shaking and the reasonable part of his brain had blacked out. It was pure emotion and it all added up to this pondering anger, repressed and transformed from fear and loneliness. He had tried so hard to be understanding, the bigger man, whatever. The core of his being ached to scream because he didn't want Kurt to act this way, he hated that he had to deal with this and that it hurt so bad.

He regained some consciousness of this, some reasonability, as there was nothing blank about the expression on Kurt's face. He looked on the verge of tears but Blaine's voice only lowered a notch as he continued.

"Will you go back to your hotel? Go to the theatre? Will you come home afterwards? Or you don't want to listen to me breathing all night?"

Blaine could see that Kurt was trying hard to hold it together, not to start crying in front of a bunch of strangers having breakfast, or perhaps in front of Blaine. If Blaine's blood hadn't been boiling he had been crestfallen by the realization of that Kurt knew exactly how bad this was. Blaine leaned forward a little and captured Kurt's eyes his own.

"It doesn't have to be like this, you know. We could go back to being Kurt and Blaine and get through it all, like we always have. But then you need to be there for me and let me be there for you, even when the truth hurts. Don't... don't you think we've been through too much to give up now? I love you, Kurt, but I want all of you, your opinion when I don't agree and I don't want you to give in without a fight, because that means you give up on us and yourself and I can't live like that. I can't."

The meaning behind his words hit Blaine at the same time he said them, and instead of loudly proclaiming his frustration he was almost whispering, all of the sudden close to tears himself.

This morning and night he had thought he wanted Kurt any way he could have him, as long as he was there it would be alright, he just couldn't _leave_. And Blaine still felt like that, because this was Kurt and he didn't know of a life without him. But now he was making demands, saying that he'd had enough.

"I want to give you everything that you want, Blaine," Kurt said and his voice was so fragile. He swallowed a couple of times. "But I don't know how I can give them to you."

"Just! Just be you, Kurt. It's all I'm asking," Blaine said and reached over the table for both his hands.

"That's an awful lot of pressure to put on someone. Even me," he said. "You need something more than that, Blaine. You just don't see it yet."

"What? No, what are you talking about? You will always be enough for me. You mean more to me than an-"

"Yes, Blaine, I know," he lifted one of his hands from Blaine's grip to dry away an escaping tear from his cheek. "And I love you more than anything. And that's that. But you need to figure yourself out, what you want out of life. And I want to be there, if you'd let me. But it's true. Things are changing. We have become people that we weren't when we first met and I don't want you to confuse me for anyone else. I need you to be happy, Blaine, and right now you don't seem very happy with me."

Blaine didn't, couldn't understand what Kurt was saying, if he was playing the martyr or being sincere. Because that sounded dangerously close to good bye.

It also sounded dangerously close to the truth. Blaine had not been very happy lately, and a lot of the time that had to do with Kurt. At this point it wouldn't have taken much for Blaine to concede, walk out of that coffee shop, because frankly he was disappointed in the way Kurt was handling this, shooting big words in the general direction of nothing.

"You're right, I'm not," he got to saying and felt Kurt's fingers twitching a little under his. "Right now, I'm not happy. God knows how many nights I've been upset with you for being gone for too long. And how sad it makes me that I can't get through to you sometimes. And right now I think you're being unreasonable. But I have known you for too long not to see through your bullshit, I know that there is something you're not telling me, there is something holding you back and no, that doesn't make me very happy, it scares the hell out of me, but _this is not you_, Kurt."

Blaine fixed Kurt with a stare that he hoped was piercing. If this didn't get the message across he didn't know what would. He squeezed Kurt's hand a little harder.

"_You_ are what makes me happy," he said because if that wasn't true, the last ten years of his life had been a lie. "To have you by my side no matter what life throws at us. I'll wait up for as long as I have to if it means falling asleep next to you every night. It doesn't matter, Kurt."

"But it does matter. That's what you've been saying for the last few weeks, and just now. It matters because I can't be there for you when you want me to be."

"No, Kurt, we've been inseparable since day one, I _want_ you to be there for me all the time because in case you hadn't noticed – we get along quite well." Kurt snorted and the corner of his lips twitched. "But I _need_ you to be there for me, or at least there with me, even when things suck. Even when I'm mad at you I'd rather you prove me wrong than leave me hanging because neither of us wins on that. We're just losing."

Kurt swallowed hard and put his free hand over Blaine's.

"I have to go now. We have a new understudy and..." he sighed and traced the tendon from Blaine's middle knuckle. Blaine was so transfixed by the gesture that it took a couple of seconds before he heard what Kurt had said. He snatched his hands away like he had been burned.

"Have you even listened to a word I've been saying?"

"Of course I have, Blaine, but I really –"

But Blaine had barely rolled his eyes before he found himself standing, coat and scarf on his arm and an overwhelming urge to make a dramatic exit. But it was the desperation in Kurt's eyes that held him back, if only for a moment.

"I'll see you at home," Blaine snarled and then stood for another second, just long enough to catch the nod of Kurt's head, just long enough not to leave a permanent scar.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Wow, that was a lot of words for just one morning. Let me know what you think! Every time I get a review I leave tumblr for an open office document. Oh, and Kurt and Blaine lick raspberry chocolate of each other's finger. Now there's a fanfic I wanna read.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Took me a while and it's shorter than all the previous chapters but here it is. I have some music recommendations if you are into that. There is one song sung - The Scientist by Coldplay (the number of times I have listened to that now, jeez) and when that ends or when you don't want to listen to it anymore I suggest After the Storm by Mumford & Sons because oh my god, it's beautiful.

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><p><em>Chapter 7<em>

The november wind bit in Blaine's face as soon as he set foot on the street. He wrapped the knitted scarf tightly around his neck as he walked to the closest crosswalk. Once on the other side he dared a side glance to the café window and saw how Kurt was standing up and reaching for his bag. Blaine focused on the road ahead.

It wasn't until he got to the next block he realized the apartment was in the other direction. Before he could make decision whether to turn around or not, his phone rang and he turned in to an emptier and smaller street.

"Hello?" he said, not having checked the name on the screen.

"Hi, Blainers!" It was Fiona. "I just wanted to thank you so much for last night. I haven't had that much fun in _weeks_. How's the hangover going?"

Needless to say, the fun part of last night seemed far off and about as enjoyable as a memory of the taste of chocolate before having an allergic reaction to the nuts in it. Basically, a mistake.

"It's... pretty bad," Blaine said. "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm one of those annoying people who don't get hungover. Just a ridiculous craving for milk... Are you out? I was afraid that I would wake you up or something." She sounded so chipper, a state of mind so far removed from Blaine's that it was a little surreal. And yes, a little annoying.

"Um, yes, no, I'm out. I just had breakfast with Kurt and..." Blaine sighed. He honestly did not want to talk about it.

"Oh. So how about that we go to the zoo?" Fiona asked seriously and Blaine let out a short chuckle.

"The zoo?"

"Yes. I haven't been in ages and I want to see the new monkeys. Or does that interfere with your day after drinking slash boyfriend sulking plans?"

"How did you-"

"Oh please, Blaine. Considering the look on his face yesterday and the sound of your voice today, I'm taking it that this breakfast you're speaking of wasn't completely satisfactory and I don't mean stale bread. Unless last night ended in angry make up sex and now you're just to tired to string two words together. But hm, no, then you wouldn't be meeting Kurt for breakfast... Oh my god, did he leave the apartment for the night?"

Blaine didn't see the point in trying to lie, and he was a little impressed by her ability to come to conclusions like these with minimal evidence. And a little bitter over the lack of make up sex.

"Yes, something like that. Look, Fiona, as much as I enjoyed your company last night I really don't think I'm socially competent today."

"Are you sure? I have a killer receipt on a hangover smoothie and a foot bath if you're into that sort of thing." Blaine smiled.

"Thanks, but I think I need to be alone today. I have some things to work out and errands to run."

"Okay sure, I understand. Give me a call if you change your mind though. I might be immune but I'm not immortal – I'm skipping my monthly skinny-dipping today."

"Okay, Fiona, thank you. I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Mhm. Oh, and Blaine? I'm not in love with you so don't worry about that."

Blaine stopped in the middle of a step.

"I-"

"Sh. I know I haven't had the best of luck when it comes to love, but falling for my gay friend? Gee, what a cliché. I would have thought Kurt had a little bit more imagination than that." Before Blaine's brain could come up with an answer to this Fiona continued her goodbyes as this had been a comment about the weather. "So I'll see you tomorrow. Don't catch a cold and try not to dwell too much. It will all work out for the best, okay?"

"...okay," was all Blaine could muster. It seemed that he had left his words at that table at Rosemary's.

"Splendid. Bye, Blaine."

"Good bye, Fiona. Eh. Thanks." Yes, he was being extremely awkward but there were too many excuses for him to really care.

She hummed softly as she hung up and Blaine slid the phone down in his pocket with a slightly bewildered frown. Her sixth sense was getting a little creepy. However, it was a relief that she didn't have those kind of feelings towards him. Partly because of the obvious complications and partly because that would be another relationship in which he would no longer know on which foot to stand – how honest was the truth anyway?

Blaine continued down the side street, without thinking about where his feet took him until he crossed a corner and was overlooking a square with a fountain. This had been his, Kurt's and Rachel's meeting point when they were living together. They'd gather here after a day of work, school, auditions or rehearsal and either take a walk or have an ice cream on one of the benches or... oh.

Behind the fountain was a bright neon sign, signaling the existence of what used to be their favorite club. If Blaine remembers correctly, it was the very first one they'd visited after Kurt's 21th birthday. (It wasn't actually on his birthday because Blaine had thrown him a surprise party that lasted until breakfast.) And Kurt had taken a particular liking to it due to the combination of a fashionista bartender who set the price on his drinks according to her agreement on different items of his outfit, and the fact that home was either within a wobbly walking, fuck my feet hurt-distance, or a less subtle than you'd think groping session-cab ride.

Blaine passed over the square and tried, really tried, not to have feel the cold puffs of air and tiny icy drops from the fountain as bitterness or sorrow. But... every problem from back then was either forgotten or resolved. Any pain had been made up for by a thousand kisses and appeared small or even endearing by now. Of course it was in the shadow of recent events but there was no denying that life had been good to them, and Kurt had been so very, very good to Blaine.

Blaine kept walking, told himself to keep going until his thoughts settled. Only, for every street he walked on there was a memory linked to Kurt. If he did it on purpose it was his masochistic subconscious leading the way, but it was probably because New York was _their_ city, constantly discovering new things and together.

But even if Blaine hadn't walked past their favorite italian restaurant, the store where Kurt used to work as a personal shopper, the graffiti that looked like Sue Sylvester, or the hotel they'd spent the night in after accidentally locking their keys in their apartment, even then a quick look up any street would have reminded Blaine of Kurt. Because it was along those that they had been able to walk hand in hand, without getting slurs whispered in their ears or funny looks.

Kurt had never been one for public displays of affection. Back in Ohio a slight lean towards Blaine or a quick squeeze of hands were daily and comforting, and even though sometimes the urge to pull Kurt in for a kiss was overwhelming, Blaine had never felt anything short of blessed to simply have Kurt by his side. It wasn't until they got to New York and Blaine dared to steal a kiss from Kurt's lips in the middle of 5th avenue before heading in the opposite directions and without as much as a hint of a raised eyebrow from the people around, that Blaine realized how absolutely outrageous it was to have to live in a town where you not only feared and were careful of your own feelings, but also accepted to have your love locked up and behind closed doors.

Besides, Blaine will never forget the look on Kurt's face when they parted and his eyes darted between Blaine's lips and the crowd of people in front of Empire State Building. First a little frantic and panicked, but then this air of relief and peace settled over his features, as if leaving something heavy behind. It was one of those moments in which Kurt never would understand how beautiful he was or how the slight curl of his parted lips made Blaine fall even more in love with him.

"I'll see you at home," Kurt had said eerily and Blaine had turned around and thought that yes, this is home, this is the place that we've been dreaming of. _A place that lets me love you in all the ways I want to._

* * *

><p>A number of people through the years had asked them how come they didn't just get married already. Noah Puckerman had actually been the first one to point this out. Although, come to think of it, the sentiment had more been like "you guys are already as married as it gets, why go to New York?" and then Finn had chimed in with a "yeah, it's not like anybody's pregnant. Right?"<p>

But getting married had never been the reason for them moving, even though the fact that they _could_ certainly was part of it. Also, Puck had been right in a way. They were already so involved and committed that they never felt the need of rushing it, confident that the rest of their lives already laid at their feet. At least that had been Blaine's feeling and he was quite sure that Kurt had felt the same way. That day would come, just like all the others.

And Blaine had thought about proposing, real and proper, when they had enough money to afford Kurt's idea of a dream wedding. They'd never spoken of it in detail but once, at a wedding where the bridesmaids's dresses looked home-sown and badly shrunken, Kurt had let it slip that when he got married he wanted to dress all the guests in vintage Chanel and Dior, because _really_.

And now. Now the future was so uncertain it almost made Blaine feel embarrassed for being so naïve, thinking that things never would change.

Had he been taking their love for granted? Taken Kurt for granted?

No. Blaine was aware of how lucky he had been, to have fond true love so young, when he had needed it the most. To have your best friend turn out to be your soulmate was not something that Blaine ever had taken for granted. But it had become his everyday life. Kurt had been in his entire adulthood, there had never been any other candidates for the position of Love of Blaine Anderson's life.

So it wasn't that their relationship was simply for the sake of it. Even though Blaine couldn't see himself with anyone else that Kurt, it wasn't because it was all he knew, it was because he still was so desperately, madly in love with him.

* * *

><p>Blaine walked all the way up to Times Square. It wasn't a place where he came very often. Tourists were pretty much standing on top of each other and taxis were honking like it made a difference. But he climbed to the top of the red stairs in the middle and tried to see what everyone else saw – the iconic view of New York City. Billboards and bright neon advertisements and yellow cars and 30 seconds away from Broadway. To all these people taking pictures and excitingly listening to the big city sounds of sirens and stomping feet, this was an idea of what freedom was, what they'd seen in the movies a thousand times.<p>

But to Blaine the ads reminded him of how he and Kurt had bought their king size bed after being haunted by a commercial for it and having the jingle stuck in the heads for two weeks. The cabs were just means of transportation, leading him to or away or with Kurt. And Broadway was the monthly treat and now even available from a backstage perspective. This was home to Blaine.

But the thought hit him like a brick falling from the eleventh floor – home meant Kurt, and if he couldn't have Kurt, he probably couldn't have New York either.

* * *

><p>It was one of those times in life where every emotion was felt so strongly, when it felt like you are at a crossroad and have no idea where the different directions will lead you.<p>

Blaine could be sure about one thing though – he and Kurt would never be the same again. Either they would come out of this empowered, or they would part. There was no turning back now.

Blaine walked on shaky legs to the nearest subway and felt tears burn behind his eyelids when he sat down next to a man with two small children. His state of sleep deprivation, hangover and anxiety had made him weak to the bone all of the sudden.

He had been walking for a couple of hours but it wasn't until then it struck him how exhausted he was, and every impression resonated in his mind. Even the annoying sound of the train doors closing was nostalgic like an old song.

By the time it was time to get off he was trying to breath deeply and just focusing on the physical task of standing up and walking up the stairs to the street. His legs were unresilient and the front door to the building was twice as heavy than usual.

When he finally was within his own walls the silence rung in his ears and it would have been all kinds of uncomfortable if he had stayed awake long enough to listen to it. But as it was he walked straight into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed, falling asleep almost immediately with part of the quilt over his legs. The body had come to rescue the mind.

* * *

><p>Blaine woke up in slow motion.<p>

The room was quite cold but that wasn't what had woken him.

On the contrary, it was the warmth next to him, the hot puffs of air over his ear and a wet kind of pressure along his cheekbone.

More asleep that awake, and reacting on instinct towards the presence of Kurt, he sighed contently and nuzzled down into the mattress. Slowly, as Kurt's soft kisses moved to his ear and neck, he began coming back to reality.

Blaine half opened his eyes and the light in the room was dim and surreal like fog. His head was resting to the right and Kurt was on his left, having placed his hand over Blaine's chest and moving his fingers lightly over his collarbone through the fabric of his shirt.

It took another couple of seconds for Blaine to understand what was strange about this, because Kurt's lips on his skin was seldom an unwanted thing but this felt off. Then of course he remembered, so vividly it made his heart jump and his head turn to the left side, Kurt's hair tickling his chin. He cleared his throat, quietly but enough to make Kurt aware that he was awake.

Kurt buried his nose in the nape of Blaine's neck and sighed heavily.

Blaine lifted his right hand to pet the back of Kurt's head and neck, the soft hair long enough to stick out between Blaine's fingers. He let his eyes shut again and just feel the air of Kurt's breath on his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Blaine forced himself to ask, forced word onto this abstract bliss.

For a while Kurt showed no signs of having paid attention to the question, his breathing just got a bit shorter until he traced the tip of his nose along the muscle up to behind Blaine's ear again.

"I want you," he whispered and dragged his bottom lip against Blaine's jaw.

Something in Blaine's stomach shivered involuntarily and added to his confusion.

"Kurt..." he said and tried to sit up a little, tried to continue with 'do you really think this is a good idea?' and 'we should talk because that's where we need practice', but he never got that far because Kurt was now humming actual music in his ear.

It wasn't only the air of Kurt's breaths that made his spine tingle, it was also the vibrations of his melody. And then came the words.

"_Come up to meet you  
>Tell you I'm sorry<br>You don't know how lovely you are"_

Kurt sang so softly that if it hadn't been for the brilliance in his voice it might have been muddled or unclear, but every word struck like a chord in Blaine.

"_I had to find you  
>Tell you I need you<br>Tell you I set you apart"_

Kurt wasn't performing. He was singing with his lips next to Blaine's skin, voice wavering a little and changing the rhythm and dragging the bars to swallow and pronounce the next word.

"_Tell me your secrets  
>Ask me your questions<br>Oh, let's go back to the start"_

Blaine's heart was fluttering hard now and he felt happy and sad at the same time. Maybe this meant that Kurt had understood. But Blaine didn't think in so many words, it's was all breathing in to the moment, and feeling Kurt vibrating through his pores, through sound and touch.

"_Running in circles..."_

Kurt stopped for a moment, and then just hummed the melody. Perhaps he had forgotten the words. Perhaps he just wanted to kiss down Blaine's throat. Blaine felt Kurt's eyelashes sweeping down his skin as he came to the chorus and Blaine slid his hand down to Kurt's elbow, squeezing it a little.

"_Nobody said it was easy  
>It's such a shame for us to part"<em>

Kurt's voice was perfectly calm, and he was now resting his head on Blaine's chest. But his fist was grasping Blaine's shirt, crumpling the fabric.

"_Nobody said it was easy  
>No one ever said it would be this hard"<em>

Blaine had closed his eyes, and thought that it was his own tears on his face when Kurt turned around and lied heart to heart on top of him. But as he opened them he was looking into Kurt's flooded ones, spilling down his cheeks when he blinked. The next line was merely breathed and finished on Blaine's lips...

"_Oh take me back to the start"_

They kissed soft and slow, but that was just because they wanted it to last forever. It was because with fire in their chests, this needed to be controlled and cared for.

But the way Blaine pulled Kurt closer to him by putting his palm on Kurt's shoulder blade, and how Kurt's hand knitted into Blaine's hair and brushed his thumb over the side of his face, gave them away. And how Blaine had to screw his eyes shut, and then remembered that he wanted to see Kurt, only to see that he had done the exact same thing.

They were in this one together.

Whatever might follow and what had been was on the edge of taking over and the reality of flesh was too present to be denied, too caught up with the fact that something finally made sense.

The kiss deepened, and the sensation was as intense as the first time. It was that sudden need to taste each other, and it would have been described as new if it wasn't for the fact that it really wasn't.

Kurt's nose dug into Blaine's cheek and Blaine slid his fingers under the neck line of Kurt's shirt, clinging to it and digging his nails into Kurt's skin.

They parted a little, just enough for Blaine to pay attention to Kurt panting a little.

"I love you," Kurt said.

His cheeks were rosy, and wet, and Blaine swept his thumb over Kurt's cheekbone and then softly over Kurt's closing eyelid.

The following that happened was slow and fast, it was an eternity but never enough.

First, there was the moment of absolute stillness. It wasn't quiet. The air was too traitorous, letting the pound of hearts travel, and move against their skin in the shape of breaths.

Then it was all about angles, fitting lips over salty skin and sliding hands against bones, remembering every crook and turn that were their bodies. It was Blaine's fingers in the dents of Kurt's ribcage. It was Kurt sliding his shoulder over Blaine's. It was a game, finding the right pieces to fit into the puzzle.

And things were in the way. But suddenly it was as easy as removing layers of clothing so they did that desperately because they had waited so long to be close, to feel connected, and every inch of naked skin was like victory.

Once Blaine had Kurt lying naked beneath him, hand on his neck and lips red, Blaine took his time and Kurt let him. He let his hands travel up the sides of Kurt's body, the warmth of skin radiating under his hands and he held a little tighter than usual, holding on to his waist as if to keep him from falling.

And Blaine tasted the milky skin of Kurt's neck, leaning so far in that his head almost was tucked in under his shoulder. He heard Kurt's ragged breathing because he remembered to listen, because the sounds Kurt made felt as real as the fingernails scratching down his back and probably leaving red marks to fade away too quickly. Blaine sucked his way down to the bone of Kurt's shoulder, leaving an angry mark before continuing down Kurt's chest. He could sense that Kurt started to lose his patience, squirming a little and tugging at Blaine's hair as Blaine licked around his nipple and placed a hand on Kurt's hip.

There might have been words whispered, but those were simply air mingling and echoing against eardrums or palates. They left no longer impressions than the whiteness of knuckles, clinging to the sheets, because it wasn't about words. It was about how Kurt hitched his leg around Blaine's and flipped them over again, eyes fully focused on Blaine's lips, eyes, skin, everywhere.

This went on for a while, closing in and drawing back until touching wasn't enough anymore and laws of physics and things that can't really be explained kicked in. Hands grew more determined and softer at the same time.

Kurt locked gazes with Blaine, pecking him on the mouth while reaching outside their bubble, into the nightstand and Blaine made a vain attempt to catch his breath, kissing Kurt's upper arm before sliding down against the pillows.

The room was dark now, but it didn't matter. At this point Kurt really did feel like not only an extension of his own body, but also his mind. And Kurt felt the same way – that that wasn't quite enough either – so he didn't even have to remove his hands from Blaine's stomach and lift his legs up on his shoulders for Blaine to do just that.

Any coherent thought that Blaine might have had prior evaporated into thin air as Kurt's slick fingers entered Blaine's body, one by one. Moans turned into groans as Kurt leaned over him, kissing his stomach and twirling his fingers in a way that made Blaine's knees tingle.

Blaine dug his fingers into Kurt's neck, rasping through his hair as Kurt moved further down, tongue dragging against him and making Blaine twist his hips up and against Kurt.

It was overwhelming how the shots of fervor from the pit of his stomach soared through his blood, and then having Kurt withdraw. It was like a flash of fear, of emptiness and disappointment, and it was enough to make Blaine flinch with something else than pleasure. But it was just a flinch, and Kurt's hand was soon on his thigh instead, steadying him as he licked apologetically over the loss of his fingers and Blaine drew in a breath so sharp it sounded like a hiss.

Kurt moved again, as quickly as he could without a making a mess of limbs and heat. Suddenly he was leaning against the back of Blaine's legs and Blaine caught a small smile before his eyes fluttered close as Kurt pushed inside him again, slow and deliberate.

Whatever emptiness Blaine had felt a minute earlier had now been redeemed and forgotten along with all other things that wasn't Kurt's hips pressing against Blaine's skin or his breath ghosting over Blaine's shoulder. He stayed there just breathing for a while and Blaine listened to the tiny sound in the back of his throat after every breath until he couldn't take it any longer and arched his lower back to get Kurt to move.

And Kurt rested his forehead on Blaine's chest as he drew back, far enough for Blaine to grab his arm as to tell him _don't leave,_ only to have his fingers digging into the muscle as Kurt pushed all the way in again.

The space between movements grew shorter and shorter and within seconds or minutes or hours speed caught up with them and nothing at all mattered when there was a rhythm like this. Flesh against flesh and when Blaine craned his neck Kurt placed sloppy kisses there and it set Blaine apart.

Kurt held him tightly during shudders and clenching muscles, moving on his own and then collapsing on top of Blaine and vibrating through every molecule of both their bodies and it was really too much, it really should have been too fucking much, but Blaine buried his face in Kurt's hair and loved the full weight of him, chests heaving against each other and that this should be everything – pure and raw.

Kurt pulled out and Blaine refused to let him move away any further, but Kurt didn't try to. He stayed on top of Blaine, only sliding down to the side to entwine their legs. He closed his eyes briefly and Blaine removed a strand of hair from his forehead but it fell right back down again. Kurt looked up at him through long lashes and his eyes shone of silver in the dark. Blaine closed his and let Kurt wrap his arms tighter around him.

Yes, this was how it should be. It wasn't effortless, it wasn't easy. It was listening and feeling and taking the consequences but it was absolutely worth it. Kurt kept him warm, snuggling impossibly close and Blaine stroked his back, counting the bumps of vertebras in the back of his dazed mind. He tugged at the blanket and pulled it up over them and Kurt sighed approvingly. He sounded close to sleep and the back of his hand was caressing Blaine's arm almost as in a trance.

But there was something keeping his eyes open and maybe he was waiting for Blaine say something, ask questions or demand explanations. But for the first time in a long time Blaine didn't feel the need to know. Or perhaps he did already know that Kurt would be there when they woke up, as soon as Blaine gave him permission to fall asleep.

Blaine shifted slightly, not feeling sticky and gross or scared and angry. Just calm and why worry about storms then? When it actually made sense not to.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued<strong>

**A/N: **(Oh, I have a question - today I talked to a friend who wants to draw some art to this fanfic (how awesome isn't that) and I was wondering if there is any scene that you would like to see drawn? She's super talented and I'm so excited!)**  
><strong>


	8. Chapter 8

__**A/N:** Here we go with the apologies again. Two months though? That's horrible. In my defense, I was dead half of the time. And didn't really feel like writing angst. I'm sure you all can figure out why. Lalala.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 8<em>

It took a few minutes for Blaine to dare move when sleep gave up on him. Kurt was still sleeping heavily on his chest and really, and isn't that a wonder considering the uncomfortable angle.

In those minutes Blaine's eyes adjusted to the dark and he could make out the contrast of Kurt's hair against his pale neck and shoulders. His arm was still stretched over Blaine's waist and suddenly Blaine felt very conscious of the movements of his breaths, not wanting to wake Kurt.

He shrugged off the itch to bend his legs or roll over to his side and instead focused on the light snores from Kurt, and the way his naked body was glued to Blaine's side, relaxed and warm and it really should have been more uncomfortable and sticky but all Blaine could think about was _safe_. That Kurt was safe, right there with him, and that was really all he could ask for.

Blaine carefully and barely caressed the line of Kurt's arm, from his thumb and over the light hair up to his elbow. An image flashed before his eyes – Kurt with his head bowed over Blaine's shoulder and those strong arms on either side of him, holding Kurt up and giving Blaine something to grab onto when everything else was spinning.

Blaine shuddered involuntarily and thought about how Kurt was the only person who could make him feel the entire spectrum of emotions. He could make him come back down to earth and then make him forget the logistics of air within seconds. He could make him laugh until his stomach ached and he could put him deep in thought and make him reconsider everything. He could make him furious and he could make him feel like he had found the embodiment of world peace. No matter the emotion, it was always strong and real, because there was nothing halfhearted about Kurt Hummel.

"I love your passion," Blaine thought out loud in a whisper and tensed up as soon as he realized the sound of his words, right over Kurt's ear. Kurt did start to stir, but maybe that was more a reaction to Blaine's sudden stiffness. This didn't really occur to Blaine though, and he held his breath in a vain attempt to keep the serenity, but the moment was already gone.

Kurt lifted his hand of Blaine's waist to rub his eyes and Blaine could feel him swallow before moving his head up to the pillow. Blaine took the opportunity to change position and slid down a little, turning a fraction to his left. Kurt was still very close, blinking slowly against the shadows.

"Blaine," he said softly, a statement rather than a question, and his eyes closed again for a brief moment. Had it been in any other time, any previous time, Blaine would have leaned in over his ear and smiled, saying 'were you expecting someone else?' and Kurt would poke him in the ribs and Blaine would laugh because the certainty of ever only waking up next to Kurt was vivid.

But now Blaine nodded and closed his eyes as well. It was a small nod followed by a small smile, probably too small to see in the darkness. So he said "Kurt," and "I've always loved the sound of you name."

He swore he saw bewilderment twinkle in Kurt's eyes and he didn't really know were this had come from. It was not exactly something that he'd thought about.

"Kurt," he whispered again, almost tasting it and keeping it to himself. He graced his knuckles over Kurt's jaw and up behind his ear. "You make me feel."

"Like a natural woman?" Kurt said, eyes still drifting with sleep, and Blaine shook his head softly and traced Kurt's hairline with his fingertips. "No?"

"No," Blaine whispered, smiling but then serious. "People used to tell me that I felt too strongly, or that it was wrong or just a phase. So I tried to push it away. But then you came along."

Kurt's eyes were fully focused on Blaine's now, but Blaine flickered between them and the movements of his own hand over Kurt's side. They had spoken many times of when they first met, and laughed at their own oblivion and naivety, at Blaine's confusion and Kurt's admiration. And Kurt knew all about Blaine's past, but Blaine couldn't remember putting it together this way. He swallowed.

"I was so scared, I think. I didn't understand it. How you just could storm into my life, out of nowhere, and become the most important person in the world? I just remember... when we first met, going to bed that night and thinking today, I met Kurt and he's going through the same shit that I did and I want to be his friend and I want to help him and I thought I was _so_ clever. Getting around the complications of feeling and just being there. Mr Dapper to the rescue..." Blaine was now fiddling with the hem of the blanket, almost mumbling. But then he smoothed it out over Kurt's arm and looked up at him. "Can you believe how wrong I was? I told you all these things, about being strong and what not, but it took me months to dare admit even to myself what I really felt towards you."

"You were scared of losing our friendship if it didn't work out," Kurt said, voice creaking a little and Blaine frowned.

"Yes. But... I was also afraid of what would happen if it did work out, because it would mean facing all these things that I'd tried running from. And it turned out that I needed your help more than you ever needed mine." Blaine snorted. "Remember how scared I was to go to prom with you?"

Kurt blinked heavily in confirmation and Blaine continued.

"I couldn't believe how strong you were, Kurt. You still are. The bravest person I know," Blaine whispered and brought his hand back up to rest on Kurt's neck and stroked the line of his jaw with his thumb. "You inspired to feel again and made me see that it was worth fighting for. It was worth fighting for us. I don't know if I would have without you. Hell, I don't know how anything would have been without you."

Kurt nudged their foreheads together and sighed deeply.

"Me neither, Blaine. Me neither," he said softly and Blaine smiled at the hand coming up to rest on his. There was more to be said but first Blaine wanted to kiss him.

With almost no pressure at all, Blaine tilted Kurt's chin up and brushed his lips over his. Kurt's hand grazed over Blaine's arm, stopping at his shoulder and pulling him in a little closer, but the kiss remained light and soft. Blaine had shivers coming up his spine, only by the way Kurt angled his head to keep their noses from bumping, and how assertive the kiss was, even though they barely deepened it at all. It was just a touch, softer than a squeeze but fuller than a caress.

Blaine stroked Kurt's cheek as they parted, keeping his eyes closed and inhaling deeply. He really couldn't understand why he couldn't just spend his entire lifetime right there.

"You saved me," Kurt said and Blaine's eyes darted open, meeting Kurt's earnest blue ones. "You took my hand and nobody had ever done that, nobody had ever told me that they'd gone through the same thing. I... probably could have gone through it all without you, because that's what I had done up until then, but I really, really, didn't want to. I was so sick of being lonely and you saved me from believing that I had to be. I could be with you instead."

These were things that Blaine knew. He knew how Kurt had been bullied and harassed, the way he'd struggled with finding his place. He knew that it was lucky that Kurt had made his way to Dalton, to get some perspective and new friends and of course, meet Blaine. But hearing him say it now, like it was something so big. Just as big to him as it was to Blaine. It made Blaine's heart beat a little faster. Kurt smiled then, almost secretive.

"And the way... I just remember the first time we met so vividly. When you sang." Kurt looked at Blaine almost guiltily. "The way you moved and _radiated_ charisma, I just couldn't believe it. I also couldn't believe that you were looking at me. Things like that just did not happen to Kurt Hummel." He chuckled and Blaine let him, waiting for his voice to drop a little and tell him something serious, this was how things went. Kurt sighed. "It's not why I love you. I'm not clinging to that image of you, as dreamy as you may have been, because we've moved beyond that. But I'm putting two and two together. I see you here now. Still dreamy... But there's a shadow on your face that has nothing to do with age. And I think it's eating you up, not getting to do what you truly want. Don't you want it, Blaine? Still?"

The look Kurt was giving him could have been passed off as pity had been coming from anyone else. But Kurt had never pitied Blaine, never done anything to belittle or ridicule him. And Blaine had to remind himself of this, because it had been so long since Kurt had spoken like this, asked questions like he wanted answers.

And Blaine thought about it. Letting go of everything on a stage, feeling the music beat through his body and _becoming_ his body. How it used to be a childhood dream, and then a want. A hungry craving for reality within that dream. And how it seemed so possible with Kurt by his side, moving to New York. Like he was destined to. It had seemed impossible to fail.

And Blaine wondered, when did it go away? The aching need. The part of him who couldn't live without a stage on the radar.

Blaine realized he was making some stuttering sounds, opening and closing his mouth again.

"Of course," he finally managed to get out. And he was a little surprised over the certainty in his own voice, mixed with broken vulnerability. He licked his lips and took another go. "I want to... do all the things I wanted to do before. Make music... perform... It's all I ever really wanted. But... It comes to a point when it's easier to be comfortable than shot down over and over." Blaine sighed and then smiled half a crooked smile. "And now I'm neither."

"You can be anything, Blaine," Kurt said and looked at him with those earnest, earnest eyes. "If you want to be a teacher, you will find yourself a new job. You will have your faithful students who would pay to have you tutor them. You could back to giving private lessons in the living room or any school would be _lucky to have you_. You could even try to fight Urley and stay _comfortable_. If that's what you want. If that makes you happy." The firm but concerned voice that Kurt spoke in, like words off a page, made goosebumps tickle on Blaine's arms. He felt where this was going rather than heard it.

"But I don't think comfortable makes you happy. People who want to be artists are not satisfied with being comfortable. There is absolutely nothing comfortable with exposing yourself in that way. It just soothes your soul, for a little while. Until next time. And you can try to fool yourself for a while, Blaine, and think that you don't need any of that. That you're fine with choosing the middle road, doing what you want but not quite. But you can't fool me. Because I've seen that fire in your eyes, and the passion in your heart. And the enthusiasm that you put into everything you do, and I don't know how you do it but you do. I'm absolutely certain that nothing could stop you from going after what you really want. Nothing."

Blaine had to squeeze his eyes shut. He had to pick this moment out and store it in his mind. The way Kurt's eyes shone with clarity in the dark, the way words shot from Kurt's lips through Blaine's ears and to his marrow. He had to remember what it felt like to have someone who knew him better than himself tell him the naked truth, before he realized it was so.

A soft caress over Blaine's eyelid made him wonder if he was crying, but he couldn't understand why. He wasn't sad. How could he be with Kurt there, with his mind and his body, healthy and his. And he was saying all these things, that were beautiful and honest, without flinching, and it was all a bit much to take in.

Blaine inhaled softly, suddenly not being able to help a smile tugging at his lips.

"I'm scared," he said and somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew he should be wondering why that made Kurt smile as well.

"I know. Me too," Kurt said lightly. "But that never stopped us before."

* * *

><p>They lied in silence for a while, in a state of sleepy surrealism. Blaine was relaxed, but he knew he couldn't slip out of consciousness, he needed to keep going. But it was Kurt who spoke first again.<p>

"I'm really sorry, Blaine," he said. "For yesterday... for everything."

"Why?" Blaine said. Kurt sighed and looked up at the ceiling, falling back on his back but pulling Blaine's hand along with him, splaying it over his chest.

"Yesterday, before getting on stage, I was trying to get into character like I do before every show. And it has always been an escape from reality, it makes me forget everything that is going on and all the matters is that moment, and what I make of it," Kurt said and Blaine nodded because yes, that was it. "But... I kept getting distracted. I wasn't having an off night because I didn't miss any ques or lines but my heart wasn't in it." Kurt looked down on Blaine's hand and traced all five fingers with his own. "It was here, with you. And then I realized, that I had built this wall. That whatever problems we had, any guilt I felt for working, it all just fell away the moment I stepped on that stage and it was easy to... keep on pretending that I could shut off."

Blaine's gaped and noted that even though Kurt had to shut his eyes and keep his profile sharp, he wasn't turning away or escaping. He was gathering strength.

"I didn't do it on purpose," Kurt continued but he wasn't making excuses. "These last few months have just been enormously confusing and wonderful but yes, overwhelming. And I... might have gotten a bit carried away and tried to _act_ like things were good when they weren't. Talk about taking your work home with you... Wow, I'm really coming off as a diva here, aren't I?"

Kurt was now looking down at Blaine with an apologetic sad smile and Blaine interlaced their fingers tightly and had to let out a chuckle because this was what it must feel like to find something you thought you'd lost.

A piece of yourself.

"I've missed you," he said and rested his head on Kurt's shoulder and Kurt nodded into his hair, making a small sound of agreement.

It was serenity and it lasted for minutes. Any sounds or movements no more than a stream of air through lungs and the quiet flicker of eyelashes. Blaine was becoming heavy, at peace with feeling Kurt's heartbeat under his palm. A steady rhythm of _letting him in._

That's why it felt like waking up from having the floor caving in under you, losing your breath and stomach twisting. Blaine became wide awake when he remembered the black leather book three feet away and it was making him feel like a thief, who took something out of spite, broke it and regrets it.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked because Blaine must have gone rigid.

Blaine didn't answer immediately and Kurt didn't push it, but Blaine was pretty sure Kurt could feel Blaine's heart racing against his ribs because he sure can. So Blaine looked up at Kurt, let his head fall back on the pillow and licked his lips to gain a split second.

"I read your journal," he then said and it almost sounded comical, the kind of blunt confession that one might find in a teenage movie. But this wasn't about secrets or questionable credibility, it was about a trust that Blaine had betrayed and wasn't it ironic, that this was exactly what Kurt had told him the night before.

Kurt frowned at him and before Blaine could help it, before he could remember that it always was better to think before you speak and also listen, he was babbling.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt, it was last night and I couldn't sleep and I tried to call you but you didn't pick up and I didn't know what to do with myself. I was stuck inside this apartment and things looked really weird and I think I still was drunk and I just needed to know, I needed answers and... I don't know what I was thinking, I was just so scared of you leaving and there it was and just wanted something to make sense... I..."

Blaine drifted off and realized that he had withdrawn his hand from Kurt's to gesture with and now it landed awkwardly on the mattress between them. He honestly didn't know what to expect, he'd forgotten all about this until now and that was why it seemed so foolish, because it was completely unimportant except that he'd done something that he'd had no right to do and he just needed to be honest, honest, honest...

Kurt sighed and turned on his side again to face Blaine. He looked concerned and bit his lip, as if contemplating something.

"I'm really sorry," Blaine said again and Kurt met his eyes, peering into his heart and Blaine hoped it was enough for him to make it alright.

"I know," Kurt said and swallowed. "I know you wouldn't do that normally. I'm not saying that I like it, but I understand. But... that means you knew what I thought when we met yesterday? Why didn't you say something?"

"Because... I wanted it to come from you, on your own accord. Not because I called you out on it."

Kurt nodded. "Fair enough," he whispered and covered Blaine's hand with his own again. "I guess now is an as good time as any to explain why I stormed out Berry style."

Blaine hated that Kurt's eyes were so sad and so beautiful, but they were all he could focus on right now. Kurt swallowed again.

"I've been afraid of you leaving, too," Kurt said and Blaine opened his mouth to protest but Kurt put a finger over his lips. "Just hear me out. I know it probably sounds absurd and delusional and I think you can relate. These changes... they didn't start when I got the part. You've been saying from the very start that teaching would only be a temporary thing but three years is a lot for temporary. And I think it's been wearing you down for longer than you think. But now it's more evident and... It's not even about that, Blaine. It's just that I know there's something else you want and it's been killing me over and over that you wouldn't share that with me. I thought that maybe... you wanted another life. That I hadn't been able to give you everything you deserved and... So, first seeing you there with Fiona, so relaxed and happy and _different_, and then having you tell me that one thing in your life actually was coming to an end, that you would have to go after a new life... And maybe it would hurt less if I was the one leaving, or shutting _you_ out... But it doesn't, because I don't want to leave you. I never, never want to leave you, Blaine."

Kurt was making that face which could melt diamonds to water, or reduce Blaine to tears. It was the face of years of loyalty, loving and hardships. It was Kurt in his rawest and most human form, the only one that Blaine had ever known.

But Blaine didn't need to be looking to know that about Kurt, and when he molded himself over Kurt shoulder, pulling him in tight against his chest, he could clench his eyes together and let his tears fall in Kurt's hair. He could let it all fall, the worry and the envy and the bitterness, everything. He could let himself fall into the madness that was life and know that the hardest fall was already done.

Falling in love with Kurt. There was no getting up from that.

* * *

><p>They woke up to monday. Cold beams of sunlight streaking across the wall and it was with an almost constructed sense of dread that Blaine realized that he probably overslept. It's just that first jolt of horror, knowing that the clock is way too much and you're way too well rested for it not to be too late. But then Blaine couldn't really bring himself to care all that much. Because Kurt was stretching out like a cat besides him, arms over his head and yawning lazily. It looked more like a careless summer morning, naked skin against white sheets and crazy bed hair that curls at the tops.<p>

Kurt relaxed back down, eyes still closed but head turned to Blaine, and Blaine knew he should sit up, check the time, blink – do anything that reflects the notion of getting out of bed and going to work and freaking out over being obscenely late.

But instead he waited. For Kurt to open his eyes and have these understandings carried out in daylight. Monday morning... isn't that the day you always promise yourself to change and make life better?

Only, you can't make such commitments in advance, you can't postpone happiness or pain, because whenever it hits, you can't predict it. You can push for it all you want for ages, and think that you're doing it right, but it never takes. But then, someday, you will wake up...

Kurt half-opened one eye and smiled slowly as he closed it again. He reached for Blaine's hand but got hold of his wrist, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a light kiss over his knuckles. Blaine raised an eyebrow and on cue Kurt's eyes flickered open.

"Good morning," he said against Blaine's hand, blinking against the light or _something_.

"Good morning," Blaine said and there were a sweet smiles playing on both their lips, but soon they faded into anticipation. Where do you start?

"Shouldn't you be at work? What time is it?" Kurt asked and Blaine's face must have fallen on pure instinct because before he had stringed the words _why_ and _reality_ together, Kurt was hugging his hand tighter and angling his head to lock eyes with Blaine. "Blaine, are you okay?"

Blaine exhaled and smiled as Kurt kissed his palm, keeping eye contact and Blaine nodded.

"Yeah. I think I am."

* * *

><p>It's a strange thing, reconciliation. Because most of the time, just because you agree on something it doesn't mean you have the same idea of how to go on from there. But still you need to stop and remember that you actually are on the same page and that it's just a matter of interpretation and method.<p>

And listening. Blaine still stayed up to hear the click of the door when Kurt came home and in return Kurt kissed Blaine goodbye every morning, wrapped up in the duvet and uncaffeined.

They made time to talk. Remembered that lunch was something that they both had anyway and it was nice, meeting in daylight and walking back to school and Kurt's cheeks went a little rosy from the cold.

Sometimes they spoke about the future, and Kurt told him about a new theatre project the director of _Octagon_ had planned and hey, auditions were coming up and Blaine felt a little uneasy at times. There was the sense of that _this was something that I have to do on my own, Kurt_, but on the other hand that was bullshit because the year was coming to an end and so was employment and money and actually, why was he making excuses when Kurt was there for him and simply there and maybe the uneasiness had to do with change and not pride.

It was a strange month inside Blaine's brain.

It was hard saying good bye to his students, counting down the lessons with each and every one of them.

It was hard sitting in the teachers room and feeling a stale air of pity drip from their gazes and clutching to his coffee cup, it was sometimes a relief to get out of there.

It was hard coming home to a cold and empty apartment and it took about two weeks until Blaine finally got the piano tuned and another one until he actually sat down to play it.

And then it got a little easier.

Sometimes he came home to cooked dinner and a cute note by the stove. Sometimes he came home to Kurt and then sometimes the dinner burned.

Sometimes Kurt would ask him to play the piano, requesting songs and singing along and sitting next to him. Sometimes they'd just dance, slow and steady to the rhythm of their hearts, or if spontaneity hit, to the radio, goofy and laughing and all around the kitchen.

It would be easy to say that it was like falling in love all over again. But it actually wasn't. The love had not, was not, going anywhere. It was just a matter of remembering what it was like, being Kurt and Blaine.

I was pretty fantastic actually.

At first they were both trying really hard. They had formed patterns over the last few months and bad habits die hard, but when the option was having a functioning relationship with your other half, the transition to honesty and their old romantic ways was quite smooth. Surprisingly so. To the extent that Blaine one day in the middle of december found himself wondering what he had been so worried about at all. Not that he had forgotten, but that it was a little surreal that something as deeply rooted as them could have been so close to shattering.

It made him walk a little quicker and take the stairs instead of the slow elevator and not bothering with taking of his shoes even though they were covered in dirty snow. And Kurt was standing by the wardrobes, turning around with a bow tie in one hand and a shirt in the other.

"Hi, honey. Have you seen my green-" Kurt said before Blaine was pushing him up against the door and kissing his neck. "Oh, okay I'll just take the blue one then," Kurt went on after laughing a little breathlessly.

"I love that shirt," Blaine whispered in Kurt's ear and started tugging at the t-shirt he was currently in.

"How sweet of you to help me get redressed," Kurt said and Blaine felt the smirk against his cheek and also a warm hand on his neck. "What is all this?"

Blaine moved to Kurt's mouth and kissed him slowly, pressing him a bit harder against the door and sliding a hand up his side. Blaine broke away with a comically sloppy sound and Kurt was raising an eyebrow at him even before his eyes were fully open. Blaine grinned and licked his lips.

"Hmm, nothing. I just felt my Kurt's-about-to-get-naked superpowers tingling so I did what any respectable boyfriend slash superhero would do," Blaine said. "Ran," he clarified as Kurt's eyebrow shot even higher. Kurt cracked into a smile and put a hand on Blaine's chest, pushing him a little so that he could turn around to the closet again.

"I don't know about superheroes but I'm pretty sure respectable boyfriends would take off their shoes before taking action with this information about their Kurts," he said and Blaine looked down on the disgusting puddle around his feet, snickering a little. "Are you sure just haven't seen my green Vivienne Westwood shirt? You know the one with the diagonal buttons. I can't find it..."

Blaine took off his shoes and carried them out in the hall. "No. And why would you want to wear that, it's just horribly complicated to get off," he said and Kurt gave him his don't-joke-about-fashion glare as Blaine headed to the bathroom to get some paper to clean up the mess. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Um, what? No, I just wanted to... Oh, here it is!"

Blaine returned to the living room in time to see Kurt pulling the t-shirt over his head and folding it up before putting it into the laundry bin. It was a common enough sight, and Blaine had stopped questioning Kurt's obsessive clothing care habits a long time ago, but it did make him smile to himself.

Kurt reached for the shirt he wanted and pulled it off the hanger, and Blaine let his eyes linger on the taunt muscles over Kurt's back and shoulders before he kneeled down to swipe up the dirt.

"What are you doing tonight?" Kurt said as he turned around and shrugged on his shirt.

"Well, let's see..." Blaine stood up and pretended to ponder it for a moment and Kurt rolled his eyes and opened another closet door, the one with the full length mirror. "Nothing!" Blaine exclaimed and aimed the ball of paper at the paper bin in the kitchen. It bounced of the wall but then straight into it.

"You could go out you know. Meet some people. See a movie. Go to the gym. Whatever normal people do," Kurt said and cursed when he saw that he'd buttoned the shirt wrong.

"The gym? Really? Is this your way of telling me that I'm getting flubberly?" Blaine said and stood behind Kurt, peering over his shoulder into the mirror before putting his hands on his hips and turning him around. "Come here."

Kurt snorted and let his hands drop from the buttons and Blaine's took over, working to undo them all.

"Flubberly? Now that you mention it..." Kurt said and poked Blaine in the side, smiling devilishly for a second and Blaine pouted. Kurt's hand stayed at is waist as a moment passed. "No. I just mean... don't you get bored?"

Blaine undid the last button and slid his hands under the open shirt, warm skin under his cold hands and he could feel shivers under his palms.

"Not a hint of flubber here..." he mumbled and Kurt's abdomen contracted in a giggle. Blaine brushed his lips over Kurt's jaw and started pushing the shirt off his shoulders. Kurt groaned and got hold on Blaine's wrists, nudging him away with a shake of his head.

"Getting _dressed_, remember?" he said and released Blaine's arms as he withdrew and lifted a smug eyebrow at Blaine. Blaine shrugged.

"It was worth a shot," he said and tried to adjust the collar of Kurt's shirt but Kurt slapped his hand away.

"It's supposed to be like that! Now kindly remove yourself from my person so I can get dressed without confusing my clothes."

"Hm, you mean without getting your pants too tight even for you? Sounds fair," Blaine said and Kurt rolled his eyes with this tiny smile playing at his lips, the kind that you miss if you don't know what you're looking at. Blaine bit his tongue and stepped back to lean on the back of the couch. "I'm sorry. Special performance tonight?"

Kurt had bowed his head to button his shirt again and he didn't look up to answer the question.

"No, nothing special." He turned around to the mirror again and squinted at the reflection. Blaine waited for some sort of continuation, or change of subject. Or punctation in form of a smile or glance, but Kurt kept his focus on the buttons and his mouth in a thin line, and Blaine wondered a little over the sudden change of mood.

He cleared his throat and slammed his palms against the soft couch. Suddenly he felt awkward and confused. Something had changed but he wasn't sure what or even that Kurt had noticed, still scrutinizing details in the mirror.

Blaine got up to go into the kitchen, and Kurt turned around at the same time, firing him a beaming smile.

"There's sushi in the fridge. Easy with the wasabi though," he said and walked into the bedroom to get something.

Blaine blinked. Maybe he'd imagined it. It wouldn't be the first time he'd overanalyzed simple miscommunication.

Except, there wasn't supposed to be miscommunication. That was the entire point.

"Kurt?" Blaine said and Kurt came out of the bedroom, rolling down the sleeves on a loose knitted sweater.

"Mm?" he said, distracted, and looked over his shoulder as he hurried into the hall. Blaine followed and figured that this really wasn't the time to start asking questions.

"It can wait," Blaine said and bit his tongue because ten seconds later Kurt was out the door and Blaine was left with a feeling of remorse.

This was what wasn't supposed to happen. Falling into old habits, and keeping quiet while doing so.

Blaine cursed himself as he sat down to eat.

It must seem like such a small insignificant issue from the outside, but this was exactly how it had started last time. With a twinge of uneasiness, a hint that something was out of order.

When you've lived with someone for that long the smallest of things make the biggest of impacts.

* * *

><p>It was friday, so Blaine could be awake when Kurt got home. He had to say something, at least strike up a conversation about how things were going. The more he thought about it, the more he felt like these moments of insecurity had been recurring during the last week or so, how Kurt had seemed distracted and vague. Blaine had just not been observant enough to bring it up, even to himself.<p>

It wasn't a discussion that Blaine particularly looked forward to having, but it brought him some peace of mind to have a plan. He'd been happy this last month, happier than he'd been all year and he knew that is was because he and Kurt could be honest with each other. Even when the problem was just that.

Despite his best efforts to stay awake, fridays were always the day when he actually could fall asleep on a decent hour without even trying. It was that kind of sleep that crept up on him, eyelids burning and head heavy, inevitable.

He thought he'd wake up by the click of the door or rustling of keys, but it wasn't until he felt the weight of a blanket being pulled over him that his body allowed him to react. He flinched and opened his eyes. Blurry vision at first, light from the hall drowning him, and he was confused. How long had he been sleeping?

"I didn't hear you come in..." Blaine said and sat up a little, making room at the end of the couch. Kurt remained standing.

"I didn't mean to wake you. Why you insist on sleeping on that bumpy old couch I'll never know, though," Kurt said and he was standing right next to Blaine, looking down at him rather awkwardly, pausing a little too long. It felt like something that Blaine was supposed to understand, but his brain was too clouded to get there fast enough. Kurt stepped aside around the coffee table and suddenly it wasn't Blaine brain that needed to be quick to react. He grabbed Kurt's hand, pulling him back a little. It was an awkward angle, because Blaine was still mostly lying down and he'd used his right arm to reach out with even though his left was closer.

"You're freezing cold," he said, because Kurt's fingers felt like icicles against his skin. Kurt looked down at their hands briefly, raised his eyebrows and snorted like it was funny.

"I forgot my gloves at the theatre," he said and squeezed Blaine's hand before he dropped it. He looked vacant for a moment before he turned his head up to meet Blaine's curious gaze. A crease on his forehead disappeared.

"Hi, by the way," he said and leaned down to kiss Blaine on the mouth. An air of city winter radiated around Kurt, fresh and intoxicating, and Blaine didn't mind that Kurt's nose was cold against his cheek.

"Hi," Blaine said and smiled up at Kurt. Kurt fidgeted with the cuff on his sweater and yawned.

"Bed," he stated and Blaine hummed in agreement. He looked at the clock and his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"It's 1 AM? Didn't you just come home?" Blaine said, sitting up and wincing when his feet hit the floor.

"Um, yes, there was a small celebration for Beth. Birthday. It was her birthday," Kurt said, already a foot inside the bathroom. "I left early."

"Oh," Blaine said and stood up and tried to stretch but then thought better of it. It was cold and his shirt rode up in the back, and if he woke up too much he wouldn't be able to fall asleep the moment his head his the pillow. Which he very much would like.

He yawned and walked to join Kurt in the bathroom.

They followed their nightly routines mostly in silence, moving past each other in the small space like a practiced dance. Toothbrushes, water, towels and creams. It was the easiest of things, harder to do when Blaine was alone.

When Kurt spit out his toothpaste, Blaine looked down at his head of brown hair and had this sudden revelation of surrealism that you can get when you're too tired, when you're busy just existing. It wasn't a déjà vu, there wasn't a movie playing in his head even though he knew that Kurt's next move would be to open the cabinet and grab the tube with the blue lid. It was just like his vision changed and every time he blinked he was surprised that things looked the same. It was like he couldn't understand what he was doing there, that he existed at all, that Kurt was there, that anything was real.

It wasn't the first time Blaine had gotten that feeling. When he was a child he used to feel like that quite often. He could sit on his bed and stare at his toes and wonder why they looked like they did. It was the same thing now, he looked in the mirror and wondered why it moved with him.

It didn't last very long. He blinked a few times and shook his head and it was gone. It was just like a reality check, his mind trying to wake him up or something. Because seconds later he looked over at Kurt and didn't find that his profile was too sharp to get a grasp on. It was familiar again. But maybe that was what spurred this on in the first place. How safe was it to assume that they wouldn't grow tired of this choreography? Wouldn't snap out of it and wonder why reality was real?

"You okay?"

Kurt stared at him through the mirror with a quirked eyebrow and raised cotton pad. Blaine let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"Yeah," he said and shook his head because it was silly.

Silly to question the best things in life.

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><p><strong>AN:** I wanted to put more in this chapter but it was already 11 pages long so we'll just save it for the next chapter. Also, I'm really looking forward to reading your reviews on the crappy monday I will endure tomorrow because of how late I stayed up to finish this. You win some, you lose some.


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